Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Back in Ohio, or as I call it, the O-dot. However, Ohio does not lend itself well to hip buzzwords applied by software sales representatives. Let's just leave it as Ohio then.

I spent the weekend in Toronto, with John and Daphne
Speaking of good friends, I finally saw Jamie, my old high school trouble-making friend, and Barb, his code-punching girlfriend. I had not seen them since my wedding 3 years ago. Jamie kept quoting Platoon at every chance: "Cocksucker fell asleep!"

Blue Chemise Cheese

Why do all sales guys dress the same? I have talked about this before, but spending 2 days in a room with 200 of them is more than I can bear. That must be the reason they all get wasted immediately after the event.

And the PowerPoint presentations. Christ on the everloving cross, can you really call reading off a slide a presentation? All I ask is that you are able to speak clearly and intelligently without reading the slide. I can read it myself. Why don't you sit down and play music while I read it? That would probably make it easier for you.





Thursday, July 17, 2003

While trodding to work one morning last Monday, I noticed a woman getting out of a pimped-out Dodge pickup truck. She had long hair, and an attractive physique made visible by her tight nylon tearaways and cropped t-shirt. I immediately wondered why she was getting out of a parked truck at 6:30am on a Monday morning in the West End. It wasn't until I saw her boyfriend or companion get out of the truck that I realized she was either a stripper or a working girl.

He had the signature Vancouver pimp/bouncer/drug dealer look: shaved head, goatee, steroid-induced massive upper body constrained in a black tank top. His gigantic arms were covered in tattoos.

Since it was Monday, they must have been partying all night, and were now heading back to their friend's apartment for a little come down. Or perhaps they were going to shoot a porn video in the apartment. Their friend was holding open the lobby door, a big smile on her slack, boozy face.

It occurred to me how far removed I am from these people, and also how close I was to them at one brief point my life. Not that I was hanging out with strippers and their bouncer/dealer boyfriends, but I was definitely a few degrees less removed than I am now.

Of course they didn't notice white-collar guy walking up the street. I still can't believe how big his arms were.

Tuesday, July 08, 2003

During a day of time-wasting surfing, this made me laugh.
Only 240 years late! Bush is really on top of current issues. Next he will be condemning robber barons getting rich in tulip futures.
When someone gets fired or laid off at our company, my coworkers and I refer to it as "getting the bullet", as in "did you hear that so and so got the bullet?". It originated with a district manager, who was asked by one of his direct reports to describe exactly what he was good at it. The manager hitched up his elastic-waist jeans and replied, "I am good at closin' business and giving people the bullet."

Over time this expression evolved from "getting the bullet" to "getting the mullet", in the way that words and phrases are morphed by young men with nothing better to do than flip around letters and sounds in between bong hits.

Rob suggested that when someone "gets the mullet", they should be forced to come back to the head office and wear a fake mullet wig. While he takes a more hard-lined approach than I, it would be funny to watch these fallen sales gods return to the head office for the walk of shame in a bad haircut.

I had a mullet once, for about 2 hours. This was before I had ever heard of the term mullet, when I simply called that style "hockey hair". I was attending the wedding of my girlfriend's brother in their home town of Orillia, Ontario, where they told me I spoke pretty good english for someone from Quebec.

My girlfriend was afraid I would get myself a bad haircut from the stoners that cut my hair in Whistler, so she had an appointment booked for me in Orillia. I told her before the appointment that they would probably be naturally inclined to give me hockey hair. My instructions to the stylist were clear: the back must be short, indeed it must be as short or shorter than the sides. She nodded and began cutting.

When she was done, it appeared that she had just avoided giving me a mullet. I ran my fingers through the wet hair to test the length in the back. While it was not a great haircut, it would have to do. I was, after all, in Orillia. I paid for the haircut and left. It was hot outside, and by the time we had returned to her house, the hair had dried, and my thick mane had sprouted into a mullet.

Friday, July 04, 2003

Scott sent me this article about how Bush & Co. are using sophistry and rhetoric to instill Americans with a sense of fear, uncertainty and doubt. Even today, on Independence Day (Happy Independence Day to all my American friends) he speaks not of the founding fathers' struggle and triumph against an imperial power, but of impending doom. To listen to him you would think the barbarians were marching up Pennsylvania Avenue. All he ever talks about is an impending terrorist attack, preventable only by his ability and willingness to strike out at any regime he wants. Just trust me.

"The enemies of America plot against us... We will act, whenever it is necessary, to protect the lives and the liberty of the American people."

Just what does this mean? Of course your enemies plot against you, but it doesn't mean they are sitting in bunkers planning to attack the Super Bowl. This kind of vague statement is Bush's trademark, and allows him the luxury of telling the truth while not committing to do anything but wage war. The US is so superior militarily, no other country or group can threaten the "liberty of the American people".

While I imagine this photo will be censored in the US, the BBC chose not to edit Bush's pit stains.


I was in the fitness room at work today when some developer almost set me off. CNN was on the TV we have in the room, muted so that the CC streamer runs along the bottom. There was some military official going on about the potential for an attack on Independence Day celebrations in Washington DC.

This needed to go. The fewer people that watch CNN the better. I changed the channel just as the developer was getting on the elliptical trainer.
"Oh, can you turn it this way a bit so I can see?” Sure, I switched the angle for him.
"What channel are you changing it to?”

"Anything but CNN" I said.

"Could you be more vague?" he answers without looking up.

Excuse me, who the fuck does this guy think he is? Some developer punk straight out of university is giving me attitude about changing the channel from CNN. I think about what I am going to say next, because not everyone has views as radical as mine (they are not even that radical, but times are tough).
"How does CBC Newsworld sound?” I ask him.

Again, he answers without looking up. “You think CBC will be less depressing than CNN?"

"At least it's true." I walk away.

He proceeds to sweat all over the elliptical machine, eliminating any desire I had to ever use it.