Recent Conversation

"Nice scarf!  Is that Mohair?"

"Actually it's neck hair - I guess it's time for a trim."

"Ewww."

Things that Sound Dirty but Aren't #7

Heard at City Council Meetings:

“I got sworn in last night”

“I could use a seconder”

“The neighbours are getting tired of our public hearings”

“That was a pretty satisfying scrum this morning”

“Let’s put that motion on the table”

Things that Sound Dirty but Aren't #6

I write these bits for a local radio station (K96.3), in case you were wondering where the idea originated...

On with the show!  Today -

Things Overheard at the Canadian Culinary Championships, held right here in Kelowna!

"Rub it with garlic"


"I've never done this in front of judges before"

"If there is already something in the oven, where do I put my pork?"

"Tastes a little salty"

Waiting...

I would write something for the blog here, but I'm just so anxious waiting for my royal wedding invitation.  I'm pretty sure I'll be getting one.  I'll let you know when it arrives.  Must be delayed - mail you know.

Attempted Parenting

“Mr. Crawford, you are charged with numerous offenses under the Reckless Parenting Act.  We will begin with the first charge, Mockery in the First Degree.  How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Worhipfulness!  Oh dear, I did it again, huh?”

“Indeed.  Mr. Crawford, you are charged with mocking school officials who are charged with taking care of your children during lunch break.”

“You mean the Food Nazis?”

“Er, why do you call them ‘Food Nazi’s,’ Mr. Crawford?” 

“They don’t allow trading, Your Honour!  When I was a kid, trading was very popular!  There was always some dimwitted kid who would trade his chocolate bar for an apple.  I hate apples to this day…”

“It says here you made several “Heil Hitler!” salutes behind their backs while they were criticizing the food in your children’s lunches.”

“Your Honour, I don’t see anything wrong with an occasional Pop Tart in the kid’s lunches when I’m too tired or too lazy to make a sandwich.”

“It says here the lunch supervisory staff were questioning your inclusion of a tin of cat food in the lunch…”

“Oh that!  That was just a bit of humour, your BigWigness.  It was intended as social commentary on today’s seeming obsession with, and aversion to, any type of processed food.”

“I understand processed food is bad for you, isn’t it?”

“Slicing is ‘processing’.  Cooking is ‘processing’.  Let’s begin by defining processing, shall we?  Then I’ll determine if it is in any way bad for my healthy and wonderful kids.”

“Fair comment.  We’ll dismiss that charge.  Now what about the Child Endangerment charge?  How else have you endangered your children, Mr. Crawford?”

“I believe I forced them to drink tap water, your Holiness.”

Gasps erupt in the courtroom.

“You did what?”

“Tap water.  I made my children drink tap water.”

“Mr. Crawford, your malfeasance is more serious than the prosecutor has led me to believe.  Clearly you are a menace to your children and this community.  You give me no alternative but to impose a serious sentence.  What do you have to say for yourself before I pass judgment?”

The defendant stands on his chair.

“I’d do it again your Honour!  Willingly!  I would also make my children walk to school, and play outside, and run around unsupervised in the park!  I would let them play with knives and matches and go exploring!  I would let them do dangerous things without wearing a helmet from time to time!  I refuse to buy into all this media-generated hysteria!” 

“I want my children to be capable of managing and understanding risk.  We do not live in a NERF world, Your Honour!  I want my kids to scrape their knees and elbows and maybe even get a fat lip, if it means they are having fun and being kids!  I will not be subdued!  FREEDOM!!!”

“Order!  Order!  Order in this court!  Mr. Crawford, you are hereby sentenced to 20 years hard labour, otherwise known as ‘Parenthood’ – and I praise you for your fortitude, sir!  Cases dismissed!  Good day, Sir!  Mr. Prosecutor, I would like a word with you…”

A guy can dream, can’t he?

Coup Attempt

Like the rest of the world, I have been watching events unfold in Egypt with rapt fascination, and not just to laugh at the improvised helmets made from buns, taped to protesters heads.

No, I have darker thoughts…

 “Department of National Defence, Private Parlez speaking bonjour hello!”

“Yes – I’d like to stage a coup, please.”

“Beg pardon?”

“I’d like to stage a coup and suspend the Constitution and take over the state-run radio and TV stations, and I could use a few tanks and armoured personnel carriers.  How do we arrange that?”

“I’m sorry, sir.  We don’t do that sort of thing here.  This is Canada.  Who would want to take over the CBC anyway?  Now there’s a rat hole you don’t want to go down.  I mean, ‘As It Happens’ is still good, and I’ve still got a crush on Wendy Mesley, but really, are you sure you want to go there?  Besides, we don’t have tanks anymore anyway.  I’m not even sure who has the gun this week…”

“Can I speak to a General, please?  I’m going to need the support of the Generals, apparently, if this coup idea is going to work...”

“I’m sorry, sir, but why do you want to stage a coup in the first place?  We have it pretty good here, you know.”

“Well, I’ve been reading about how the Mubarek family in Egypt amassed a fortune worth billions of dollars, and it started way back when there was a state of emergency, so I got to thinking…”

“If you are a student of history though, sir, you’ll also know that before you enlist the army, you need to have some sort of secret police, first.  I’ll transfer you...”

“You have reached RCMP Headquarters.  To file another complaint, press one…”

I hit zero a few times and got the secretary to the Commissioner.

“Yes, I need to set up a secret police force to arrest and torture my political opponents, to whom should I
speak please?”

“Is this Mr. Ignatieff again?”

“No, I’m just a private citizen trying to get ahead.  Who should I talk to about this sort of arrangement please?”

“I don’t think we do secret stuff any more, darn the luck.  It sounds interesting, but I don’t think we can help you.”

“You’d be able to hold people up for money at airports…”

“We already do that.  Nah – I don’t think we’re interested.  Thanks for calling, though.”

This was not going as I had planned.  I needed some way to skim money off of everything in the country, then spirit it away where no one would ever be able to trace it.  Just like they do in third world countries.

Then inspiration struck and I laughed maniacally...

“Long Gun Registry, how may I direct your call which is not being monitored for training or security purposes or anything we swear no really?”

“Yes, it’s the Prime Minister’s office calling.  We’re about to implement some policy changes in your program and I thought we should have a meeting…”

Awesome Music Video!

This is so eye-wateringly dreadul you'll love it!  Hilarious!  Better than the original!

Things that Sound Dirty but Aren't #5

Overheard at the Vancouver Boat Show:

• "She's got a cozy galley"
• "That's a big mast you've got there"
• "She's got impressive topsides and a V bottom"
• "It's a lot smoother ride if you take down her jib"

Benchley Contest Finalist

So the Robert Benchley Society people have finally gotten around to short listing this years writing contest - and I made it to the top ten!  Yippee!

See the list here: http://www.robertbenchley.org/competition/index.htm

Sneak Attack

It was Saturday morning.  I had no meetings, no soccer games, no classes to take kids to – nothing.  I could sleep in. 

I never get to sleep in. 

Knowing all this created a delicious, warm feeling within me.  Then I realized the warm feeling was about to be related to my bladder, so I got up and went to the bathroom.  THEN I got the delicious feeling of anticipation as I padded back to bed.  Ahhhh. 

The plan of attack was to surprise my enemy at the break of dawn, when he would least expect it.  I lay in wait, carefully camouflaged against a dark background.  My target rose right on schedule and walked to the noisy small water room, then returned to my attack place.  He never saw me.  All was in readiness. I purred quietly in anticipation. 

As I slid between the still-warm flannel sheets I began to giggle deliciously.  This was going to be great.  I snuggled in and arranged the blankets just so.  Then, in an act of supreme hedonism, I slid a spare pillow between my bony knees, thus guaranteeing me at least two hours of dreamy, wonderful snoozing.

My targets lay beneath a thin cover.  I spotted them easily.  Two neat rows of five each, parked side by side at the base of the bed, like battleships at anchor. 

I had studied the attack of Pearl Harbor by watching a dreadful movie (Ebert only gave it one and a half stars), so I knew how to proceed.  I would inflict maximum damage by using surprise and overwhelming force, while avoiding love triangles at all costs.   My claws were ready.  My fangs were ready.  I was ready.  In fact, I was in mid-air, hurtling towards my destiny…

Time is somehow compressed when you’re dreaming.  I was walking down palm-lined beaches, smelling the tropical air and the beautiful flowers that were everywhere.  It was paradise…

My timing was perfect.  No alarm had been raised, and the tender, juicy targets were just lying there, stationary.  They took no defensive measures of any kind.  From high altitude I rolled in, claws extended, out of the rising sun…

The drool from my grinning, snoring mouth was just beginning its journey to the pillowcase when all hell broke loose.  From out of nowhere, red hot pokers sank into the flesh of my warm, slumbering feet, accompanied by a ferocious squeal that could best be described as “Bonsaiiiiimmeeeooowwwww!!”

My feet recoiled in horror, dragging my assailant up under the covers to the middle of the bed.  A mad thrashing commenced, reminiscent of several angry badgers stuffed into a small sack.  I tried to dislodge the talons but my attacker doggedly (?) (hey – ‘cattedly’ doesn’t work) held on and enjoyed the ride.  I may have uttered something inappropriate such as “Goodness gracious!”  I can’t remember.

I have never had so much fun in my entire, short life!  It’s not often you get to wrestle big toes under the covers like that, and it was truly epic how they thrashed about.  It was like having ten tethered mice right there in front of me, unable to escape my evil clutches!  It was really fun chasing them around in the dark, biting and slashing…probably the best morning I have ever had. 

Battle damage assessment continues as I wash the sheets in cold water.  I have to admit it was a surgically precise strike, with very little collateral damage.  The scabs, scrapes and fang marks should heal without scarring, I think. 

It’s the psychological damage that is taking its toll…

No more lying in bed, dozing, while a kitten sleeps contentedly on top of the blankets.  As I fall asleep, the slightest touch causes me to lurch my feet higher under the covers, whimpering.  I awake in the night, sweating.

This was a day that I seriously considered calling the SPCA and making an appointment. 

This was a day that will live in infamy. 

Things That Sound Dirty But Aren't #4

Pertaining to Water Bottles:

- To get things going you need to pull on the nipple

- Sucking works as well as squeezing

- Some of them are so big you need to use both hands

- Some are made from silicone

- They bounce around when you run

Things That Sound Dirty But Aren't #3

Overheard in the Workshop

"I'm looking for a screw on the floor"

"Hit reverse and back it out slowly"

"Tighten those nuts!"

"Hold it in place with your fingers then hammer it home"

"I hit it so hard it bent!"

"That's not white glue!"