Friday, September 30, 2005
Shaken Not Stirred...
Jonkoping, SWEDEN -- This town plans to become the first place in the world where corpses will be disposed of by freeze-drying and vibrating them to powder, as an eco-friendly alternative to cremation or burial, officials report.
Be sure not to have Uncle Svend's urn anywhere near the sugar bowl or he may accidentally end up on your Corn Flakes. The bright side to all of this, however, is that if you miss your dearly departed, freeze dried relative, just add water....
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In other current events, there's a BLOG TAG game happening, and I was tagged by Abigail on her blog. These are the rules:
1. Go into your archive
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to)
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to)
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions
5. Tag 5 other people to do the same thing
My 23rd post (almost as famous as the 23rd Psalm), was BIRD LADY, and the 5th sentence was... Who knows, maybe they were saying, "Hey, pass me that piece of bread, if you please", and "Oh, I like your plumage today - very shiny."
The 5 people I tag:
1. Melaney
2. Jaki
3. Kasha
4. Joel
5. Tamara
No tag backs!
Be sure not to have Uncle Svend's urn anywhere near the sugar bowl or he may accidentally end up on your Corn Flakes. The bright side to all of this, however, is that if you miss your dearly departed, freeze dried relative, just add water....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
In other current events, there's a BLOG TAG game happening, and I was tagged by Abigail on her blog. These are the rules:
1. Go into your archive
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to)
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to)
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions
5. Tag 5 other people to do the same thing
My 23rd post (almost as famous as the 23rd Psalm), was BIRD LADY, and the 5th sentence was... Who knows, maybe they were saying, "Hey, pass me that piece of bread, if you please", and "Oh, I like your plumage today - very shiny."
The 5 people I tag:
1. Melaney
2. Jaki
3. Kasha
4. Joel
5. Tamara
No tag backs!
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
D-Day 2...
We climb into the van yesterday afternoon, strap the kids in, close the doors and.... it won't start. It still hasn't started. It's in the driveway today, not running. Well, we opened the doors, unstrapped the kids, pulled out the car seats, opened the garage and backed out the little 2-door car, re-connected the car seats, re-strapped in the kids (one VERY upset and bawling over the fact that she wasn't travelling in her "favourite van in the world" - and no, it wasn't my wife, Beth), closed the doors, and headed out to our appointment.
Two and a half hours later, we of shiny teeth and sore jaws, headed to a store that was closed earlier than their sign said (no new jeans for me today), so we went out to a restaurant for supper. It was a horrible experience, starting with a waitress who should not have been in the service industry, a crying boy throughout dinner (and no, it wasn't me), and a meal that was less than enjoyable. I won't tell you which restaurant it was, but it's initials start "ABC".
When we got home, our neighbourhood smelled like skunk, I had to rush out right away to a church council meeting, and the van still would not start. All a coincidence? I think not. The dentist is definitely evil....
Two and a half hours later, we of shiny teeth and sore jaws, headed to a store that was closed earlier than their sign said (no new jeans for me today), so we went out to a restaurant for supper. It was a horrible experience, starting with a waitress who should not have been in the service industry, a crying boy throughout dinner (and no, it wasn't me), and a meal that was less than enjoyable. I won't tell you which restaurant it was, but it's initials start "ABC".
When we got home, our neighbourhood smelled like skunk, I had to rush out right away to a church council meeting, and the van still would not start. All a coincidence? I think not. The dentist is definitely evil....
Monday, September 26, 2005
D-Day...
Today is D-Day (Dentist Day). We all pile in the van and go to the dentist in order to be prodded and poked with the long pointy metal scraper thing (I remember asking my hygienist friend, Lisa, what that thing was and I think she said that people in the industry called it a "scaler", but the technical term was "long pointy metal scraper thing").
You may not be able to tell, but I really hate going to the visit the dentist. And I use the term "visit" loosely, due to the fact that when you visit anyone else, you can leave when you want and usually aren't bleeding from your mouth when heading out the door. "But it's just a checkup and a cleaning", says my wife. However, it's the exact same thing as taking your car in for an oil change. "Uh oh", the grease monkey says from under the hood with a very concerned look, "someone hasn't been changing his radiator fluid every 500kms like it says in the 1995 Dodge Colt owner's manual. Now we're gonna have to replace the entire engine, transmission, tires and braking system.... that is after we deal with the exhaust and fuel pump, of course." You walk out of there, $3000 lighter and feeling about an inch tall because they are gleefully pointing out everything that is not pristine.
"Uh oh", the dentist will say this afternoon with a very concerned look, "someone hasn't been flossing every 15 minutes like everyone knows you should. Now we're gonna have to cap all those teeth on the top, then do a bridge and a crown and a root canal, and fit you for braces, just in case you hit it big and want to be a movie star. I'll need to schedule a 3 hour slot, for 6 consecutive weeks. How's next Monday sound?"
Oh, and here's a lollipop for being such a good patient.
Do I really need to convince anyone that dentists are evil? Ever seen a horror movie? Inevitably, some crazed maniac will bring out some dental tools with which to mangle somebody (or at the very least a drill from the garage that reminds you of dental tools). Or have you watched a Marilyn Manson video? In that one for "Beautiful People", everybody has some kind of metal appliance strapped to his face, pulling the lips back to reveal more grotesquely eerie metal braces riveted to whatever's left of one's teeth. I bet most dentists like cats too!
Maybe I'm overreacting? It's quite possible that everything will go smooth and easy. Maybe the only difficult thing I'll face will be choosing what flavour of fluoride I want (mint, cinnamon or creamsicle)? Maybe it will be a painless, relaxing, enjoyable experience. Yeah, and maybe I'll grow webbed feet, win the lottery and learn Chinese this afternoon too! Well, it's too late to cancel the appointment now. If you don't hear from me soon, call the Marines or the Coast Guard or the Listerine people....
You may not be able to tell, but I really hate going to the visit the dentist. And I use the term "visit" loosely, due to the fact that when you visit anyone else, you can leave when you want and usually aren't bleeding from your mouth when heading out the door. "But it's just a checkup and a cleaning", says my wife. However, it's the exact same thing as taking your car in for an oil change. "Uh oh", the grease monkey says from under the hood with a very concerned look, "someone hasn't been changing his radiator fluid every 500kms like it says in the 1995 Dodge Colt owner's manual. Now we're gonna have to replace the entire engine, transmission, tires and braking system.... that is after we deal with the exhaust and fuel pump, of course." You walk out of there, $3000 lighter and feeling about an inch tall because they are gleefully pointing out everything that is not pristine.
"Uh oh", the dentist will say this afternoon with a very concerned look, "someone hasn't been flossing every 15 minutes like everyone knows you should. Now we're gonna have to cap all those teeth on the top, then do a bridge and a crown and a root canal, and fit you for braces, just in case you hit it big and want to be a movie star. I'll need to schedule a 3 hour slot, for 6 consecutive weeks. How's next Monday sound?"
Oh, and here's a lollipop for being such a good patient.
Do I really need to convince anyone that dentists are evil? Ever seen a horror movie? Inevitably, some crazed maniac will bring out some dental tools with which to mangle somebody (or at the very least a drill from the garage that reminds you of dental tools). Or have you watched a Marilyn Manson video? In that one for "Beautiful People", everybody has some kind of metal appliance strapped to his face, pulling the lips back to reveal more grotesquely eerie metal braces riveted to whatever's left of one's teeth. I bet most dentists like cats too!
Maybe I'm overreacting? It's quite possible that everything will go smooth and easy. Maybe the only difficult thing I'll face will be choosing what flavour of fluoride I want (mint, cinnamon or creamsicle)? Maybe it will be a painless, relaxing, enjoyable experience. Yeah, and maybe I'll grow webbed feet, win the lottery and learn Chinese this afternoon too! Well, it's too late to cancel the appointment now. If you don't hear from me soon, call the Marines or the Coast Guard or the Listerine people....
Friday, September 23, 2005
50th Anniversary...
My parents will be celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary tomorrow! It is such a huge occasion that my siblings and I are planning a special night for them in November (we just couldn't pull it off in time for the Sep 24th, but I think mom and dad are going to "Ricky's" for dinner anyways - they get the senior's discount).
My dad and mom (Arnie and Elsie Peters) are terrific! They not only raised 5 wonderful kids, who are all now raising wonderful kids of their own, but they instilled some really basic things in me about life that I did NOT learn in kindergarten (because after 2 days of kindergarten, my dad thought it was crazy to be driving me there for only half a day and then picking me up again, while I could just be plunked down in front of Mr. Dressup, the Friendly Giant, and Sesame Street and receive the same educational value without paying the exhorbitant gas prices of 1975 - probably $0.10/litre or something ridiculous). They taught me about love and the importance of loving others more than myself. They taught me about generosity and the importance of not being greedy. They taught me about laughing and the health that comes with it. They taught me that a trip to Disneyland is a great investment. They taught me that 50 years of marriage is not a walk in the park, but that it is worth the effort. They taught me about God's faithfulness, and they are still living examples of it.
What I don't remember learning from them was about the birds and the bees. Not sure who taught me that. Oh well, it seems to have worked out fine.
Happy anniversary mom & dad, I love you lots and thank you lots!
Oh, and happy 50th anniversary, Disneyland (1955-2005). Too bad Walt's head is in some cryogenic freezing facility or he could celebrate with everyone too....
My dad and mom (Arnie and Elsie Peters) are terrific! They not only raised 5 wonderful kids, who are all now raising wonderful kids of their own, but they instilled some really basic things in me about life that I did NOT learn in kindergarten (because after 2 days of kindergarten, my dad thought it was crazy to be driving me there for only half a day and then picking me up again, while I could just be plunked down in front of Mr. Dressup, the Friendly Giant, and Sesame Street and receive the same educational value without paying the exhorbitant gas prices of 1975 - probably $0.10/litre or something ridiculous). They taught me about love and the importance of loving others more than myself. They taught me about generosity and the importance of not being greedy. They taught me about laughing and the health that comes with it. They taught me that a trip to Disneyland is a great investment. They taught me that 50 years of marriage is not a walk in the park, but that it is worth the effort. They taught me about God's faithfulness, and they are still living examples of it.
What I don't remember learning from them was about the birds and the bees. Not sure who taught me that. Oh well, it seems to have worked out fine.
Happy anniversary mom & dad, I love you lots and thank you lots!
Oh, and happy 50th anniversary, Disneyland (1955-2005). Too bad Walt's head is in some cryogenic freezing facility or he could celebrate with everyone too....
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Would You Rather...
I play a game with teenagers called "Would You Rather". I give them 2 choices and they have to decide which they would rather do and then justify their decision. Some are simple, like would you rather drink Coke or Pepsi? Eat liver or Spam? Ride a mechanical bull or a looping roller coaster? Others are slightly more thought provoking, like would you rather win $50,000 or earn $1,000,000? Be lied to or gossiped about? Forgive or be forgiven?
Last night, however, I asked the group to make up some of their own that we would discuss with everyone. Here is a very small sampling.
Would you rather...
Last night, however, I asked the group to make up some of their own that we would discuss with everyone. Here is a very small sampling.
Would you rather...
- Swim in Jello or pudding?
- Be eaten by a chipmunk or an eagle?
- Be shot in the head or the tummy?
- Pee your pants in public or poop 'em in private?
- Hang out with Kayla or hang out with Kayla? (there is currently only 1 Kayla in our group, and that was her contribution - I chose the first one)
I learned two things last night. Never underestimate the creativeness of teenagers when they are released to think freely. And never forget to write down the things they say because there was something Russel said that was priceless, and if I try to remember it I'll just wreck it (something to do with a knight's gauntlet and gummy bears.... I dunno, but it was funny!).
Would you rather read my blog or actually do something productive with your time??? Ahh, I see you have chosen well, grasshopper....
Sunday, September 18, 2005
I'm Officially Domesticated...
We now own a van. It's red, it's insured, and it has 2 car seats in it. It is a 1993 Pontiac TransSport, with a lot of mileage. It needs a front end alignment (the steering wheel is at a 45 degree angle when driving straight ahead). It runs well and is apparently known for it's good engine type. It cost me $65 to put gas in it. When I drive it, my eyes glaze over and I'm tempted to say "yes, dear", "hey you kids, don't make me come back there", and "hey look, a yard sale" even when no one else is in the car. I've had kids for over 5 years, but I think I'm finally a true dad now. Lord help me.
In other news, I tried an energy drink today. RED RAIN. It was green and tasted like syruppy Mountain Dew with extra fizz. I think I could make that stuff at home with some windshield washer fluid, baking soda and a few cups of sugar. Call it BLUE DEW. Maybe sell it out of the back of the van....
In other news, I tried an energy drink today. RED RAIN. It was green and tasted like syruppy Mountain Dew with extra fizz. I think I could make that stuff at home with some windshield washer fluid, baking soda and a few cups of sugar. Call it BLUE DEW. Maybe sell it out of the back of the van....
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Fry Guys...
Yesterday I read a little article on the second page of the newspaper. It was about a man who wanted curly fries at a fast food restaurant. That in itself is not a news flash, and neither is the fact that the restaurant did not have curly fries. The newsworthy event was the fact that the man went completely crazy and the police were called in. And further, the man was shot in the abdomen by a policeman due to his threatening behaviour.
Now, I laughed out loud at the article because the absurdity of it all. Who goes ballistic over french fries (curly or otherwise)? And who shoots a man going crazy over french fries (curly or otherwise)? Needless to say, the man was sent to the hospital and the police officer is on indefinite leave.
My buddy Chris would say that fries would have killed the guy eventually anyways. Although, I imagine, a little more slowly....
Now, I laughed out loud at the article because the absurdity of it all. Who goes ballistic over french fries (curly or otherwise)? And who shoots a man going crazy over french fries (curly or otherwise)? Needless to say, the man was sent to the hospital and the police officer is on indefinite leave.
My buddy Chris would say that fries would have killed the guy eventually anyways. Although, I imagine, a little more slowly....
Monday, September 12, 2005
It's All Greek To Me...
Sometimes I eat lunch at the Greek place in the food court (Opa!). Why it's named after a German grandfather, I'll never know. They have some items I enjoy, such as: soft, warm, parmesaned pita bread; fried rice (you know, that food court rice that all the chinese places serve); chicken on a stick. All good stuff. But they also have some large hunk of meat rotating on a heated vertical skewer behind the people serving. It bubbles and drips juices as it slowly spins in a hypnotic dance of delectable flavour. Or so I imagine.
You see, my dilemma is that I don't know how to order it. I have seen others receive a knifed-off portion slipped into a pita and doused with tsziki sauce. But I don't see "hunk of mystery meat" on the lighted up menu above the cash register. I feel kind of dumb just pointing over there and asking for a slice of that juicy heaven, especially when I don't know what it is (although I'm fairly certain it's lamb).
So, what's the secret password? Do I have to know a special Greek handshake to get what my tummy so desires? I've tried to listen in to what other people order, and I thought I had it one time, but it's not a pork falaffel. It isn't a lamb gyro, either (I've been trying to order through trial and error, but not having much success). Until I break the code, my pita and rice side dishes will have to suffice. And Burger King.
Maybe I need to smell like a sheep herder and call myself Papanikolous....
You see, my dilemma is that I don't know how to order it. I have seen others receive a knifed-off portion slipped into a pita and doused with tsziki sauce. But I don't see "hunk of mystery meat" on the lighted up menu above the cash register. I feel kind of dumb just pointing over there and asking for a slice of that juicy heaven, especially when I don't know what it is (although I'm fairly certain it's lamb).
So, what's the secret password? Do I have to know a special Greek handshake to get what my tummy so desires? I've tried to listen in to what other people order, and I thought I had it one time, but it's not a pork falaffel. It isn't a lamb gyro, either (I've been trying to order through trial and error, but not having much success). Until I break the code, my pita and rice side dishes will have to suffice. And Burger King.
Maybe I need to smell like a sheep herder and call myself Papanikolous....
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Top 5 Reasons Why Playland Is Like Disneyland...
In honour of our trip to the PNE and Playland on Monday, here are the top 5 reasons to compare Playland in Vancouver to Disneyland in California:
5) They both have an "Old West" themed roller coaster (only Playland's is 1/10th as long and goes 1/10th the speed).
4) They both have a Gay Pride Day (In Disneyland it's September 30th, at Playland it's from May - August).
3) They both have an elephant kiddie ride (except Disneyland's has a LOT more leg room).
2) They both gouge you for food and merchandise (but Disney stuff you can sell later on eBay).
1) They both have a mouse (but Playland's ran under the ladies washroom with a piece of popcorn....).
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Katrina...
It has been over a week since hurricane Katrina devastated some of the states along the Gulf of Mexico. People in southern Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama will never be the same, and their cities will take many years to rebuild. The thoughts, prayers and finances of many Canadians are focused on survivors in those ravaged areas.
It is difficult to comprehend the incredible change of life that took place for hundreds of thousands of people over a mere 24 hours. Imagine Vancouver and the Fraser Valley flooded by meters of water; people driving boats between high rise office buildings down the city streets; not having a job to go to or a residence to return to; your 1975 Ford is undrivable because it's flooded - really flooded; 7-11's closed!
And just because we have strict firearms laws in Canada, I don't think we would be immune to the looting and the violence. Desperate people will do desperate acts and many will take advantage of a disasterous situation for their own gain. The hearts of people don't change just because a political-geographic border is crossed.
I would encourage you to give. Even if you are skeptical about where the funding is going and how your contribution could possibly help. Katrina is a reminder of our frailty, and giving to others in need is a selfless act that softens one's heart and life. Don't harden yourself. Find a reputable organization and give something towards disaster relief.
In other news, it is the first day of kindergarten for my 5 year old daughter. She was so excited! A 15 minute sign-up in the classroom and brief hello with her teacher (Mrs. Morgan), wasn't enough to satiate Jayce's burning desire to learn and play. I'm also pretty sure she's looking forward to using her attitude and verbal charm to rule over the kids in kindergarten and have them bend to her every whim. Or at least let her do 'show and tell' first....
It is difficult to comprehend the incredible change of life that took place for hundreds of thousands of people over a mere 24 hours. Imagine Vancouver and the Fraser Valley flooded by meters of water; people driving boats between high rise office buildings down the city streets; not having a job to go to or a residence to return to; your 1975 Ford is undrivable because it's flooded - really flooded; 7-11's closed!
And just because we have strict firearms laws in Canada, I don't think we would be immune to the looting and the violence. Desperate people will do desperate acts and many will take advantage of a disasterous situation for their own gain. The hearts of people don't change just because a political-geographic border is crossed.
I would encourage you to give. Even if you are skeptical about where the funding is going and how your contribution could possibly help. Katrina is a reminder of our frailty, and giving to others in need is a selfless act that softens one's heart and life. Don't harden yourself. Find a reputable organization and give something towards disaster relief.
In other news, it is the first day of kindergarten for my 5 year old daughter. She was so excited! A 15 minute sign-up in the classroom and brief hello with her teacher (Mrs. Morgan), wasn't enough to satiate Jayce's burning desire to learn and play. I'm also pretty sure she's looking forward to using her attitude and verbal charm to rule over the kids in kindergarten and have them bend to her every whim. Or at least let her do 'show and tell' first....
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Man Shampoo...
Is there shampoo for guys anymore? It seems that everything is either strawberry scent, lilac potpourri, or pear extract. What happened to the bland, 750ml bottle of rusty-orange coloured $1.99 shampoo that I used to buy? Well, the other day at the grocery store, it was Dippity-Do to the rescue!
After scanning the shampoo aisle for like 20 minutes (I'm really not embellishing too much here), I finally saw blue bottles of "Dippity-Do Sport" shampoo and body wash. It seemed like it was the only masculine product on the shelf. ASIDE: That "body wash" thing confuses me because I used to think a bar of soap would suffice, but I guess I was wrong. Now there are plenty of man-options for that product (Old Spice, Adidas, Axe...).
The Dippity-Do Sport shampoo/body wash combo seemed to be the only bottle of stuff without flowers on it or some promise to make my hair full and rich and long and lush (if you've seen my presently-forming bald spot, you'll know that girly stuff just won't do). The Dippity-Do Sport, however, did have a single word highlighted on the bottle: ENERGIZING.
Hmmm, what does that mean? All of a sudden I had a vision of men in lab coats pouring beakers and shaking test tubes, shouting eureka as they find the solution to adding "energy" to dead skin follicles. I mean hair. Will my hair glow in the dark? Will it be nervously fidgety all the time because it's full of energy? And what kind of energy will it possess? Electric? Solar? Nuclear? Then I read the package: "This gentle ENERGIZING formula (aha, I was right about the lab guys creating a formula) leaves your hair and skin feeling soft and rejuvenated. The invigorating fragrance will energize your senses and keep you ahead of the game."
Okay, who writes this stuff? First of all, man-'poo should never use the word fragrance. Secondly, what "game" are they talking about? Sheesh, I could go on and on about this, but it's getting late and I need to go to bed. The final thing to be said is that there is definitely a market for a masculine shampoo product. No fruity fragrance. No fancy bottle. No European name. No big price tag. It should be called GUY SHAMPOO and come in a black bottle. Oh, and it should have two scents - "Locker Room" and "Oil Change"....
After scanning the shampoo aisle for like 20 minutes (I'm really not embellishing too much here), I finally saw blue bottles of "Dippity-Do Sport" shampoo and body wash. It seemed like it was the only masculine product on the shelf. ASIDE: That "body wash" thing confuses me because I used to think a bar of soap would suffice, but I guess I was wrong. Now there are plenty of man-options for that product (Old Spice, Adidas, Axe...).
The Dippity-Do Sport shampoo/body wash combo seemed to be the only bottle of stuff without flowers on it or some promise to make my hair full and rich and long and lush (if you've seen my presently-forming bald spot, you'll know that girly stuff just won't do). The Dippity-Do Sport, however, did have a single word highlighted on the bottle: ENERGIZING.
Hmmm, what does that mean? All of a sudden I had a vision of men in lab coats pouring beakers and shaking test tubes, shouting eureka as they find the solution to adding "energy" to dead skin follicles. I mean hair. Will my hair glow in the dark? Will it be nervously fidgety all the time because it's full of energy? And what kind of energy will it possess? Electric? Solar? Nuclear? Then I read the package: "This gentle ENERGIZING formula (aha, I was right about the lab guys creating a formula) leaves your hair and skin feeling soft and rejuvenated. The invigorating fragrance will energize your senses and keep you ahead of the game."
Okay, who writes this stuff? First of all, man-'poo should never use the word fragrance. Secondly, what "game" are they talking about? Sheesh, I could go on and on about this, but it's getting late and I need to go to bed. The final thing to be said is that there is definitely a market for a masculine shampoo product. No fruity fragrance. No fancy bottle. No European name. No big price tag. It should be called GUY SHAMPOO and come in a black bottle. Oh, and it should have two scents - "Locker Room" and "Oil Change"....
