Originally intended to document my experience of DeLorean ownership, focus is often radical and strange, boring and obtuse.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Give Me A (Winter) Break

Caution: Corkys at work. What? Didn’t you ever watch ‘Life Goes On’?

What happens when you cross a pregnant mother with a night of binge drinking that ends with two more days of bar-hopping, followed by a night on the town with Paris Hilton?

One of these road-crew guys, wearing bright orange.

As I approached this peanut-free construction zone yesterday, I noticed a few things. I noticed the heavy equipment digging a massive hole in the road. I noticed how the road narrowed to a single lane. I noticed how the road-work person at my end of the road was holding a bright yellow sign which read “SLOW”. What I didn’t realize was that the sign served double-duty as both direction for me, and a proclamation of his intelligence level.

I proceeded to slowly drive around the heavy equipment and silky pylons, down the narrow roadway, until something forced me to stop.

Coming from the other direction, in an equally slow manner, was a large Ford pickup, which I met with face to face. It was at this point that I noticed the other road-crew person up ahead, at the other end of the zone.

Jumping up and down, he was waving his arms in the air, trying to get the attention of the his colleague, who had obviously screwed up. I looked in my rearview and watched him realize his mistake, and spin his sign around.

With the Ford not budging, I put the SHO gear selector in ‘R’ and spun the living hell out of the front tires, rocketing a very tiny amount of snow, gravel and puppies in the direction of the pickup.

Once the truck passed, I began driving through the zone once again. My SLOW road-crew guy ran up to my window and motioned me to slow down.

I was going 6 km/h.

Most people need a vacation from the snow. I think I need a break from all this buffoonery. That’s why I’m leaving.

Suz and I are going to Venezuela for about 8 days, and we’re leaving tomorrow. If you need something to read while I’m gone, don’t forget to check out Useless Advice From Useless Men. They’re still as useless as ever, but with 15% more hilarity.

Friday, January 26, 2007

We Wii At Work

In Mike Tyson’s Wii-Punch-Out, you must bite off a virtual ear.

Spreading their addictive interactive joy, Nintendo loaned our workplace a Wii system for a week so that we could review it and become so dependent that we’d each have to buy one.

The Wii is Nintendo’s fifth home entertainment system in North America, not including their silly red 3-D 32-bit virtual reality-type system that only sold fourteen copies, all of which have become "collector items" on eBay.

Agent double-oh 239… Lbs. Oops, sorry Jod.Nintendo sent along their sleek Wii in an even sleeker carrying case fit for a secret agent. Yes, we finally know what was in the case in Ronin. The silver case was loaded with controllers, wires and games like Excite Truck (remember Excite Bike?!?), Zelda, and Warioware which contains 200 micro games. To see the opened case full of goodies, click here.

Strung-out co-workers battled each other in Boxing, attempted to out-bowl each other, and faced off in tennis matches. One overzealous co-worker began wailing on his boxing opponent for real, and Jodster and I had to step in to break it up. A collection has been set up to bail our co-worker out of jail.

And this is a good time to remind everyone that one should only use Wii controllers with the Wii system. When playing Baseball, don’t use a real baseball bat. It’s not compatible with the system, and could seriously injure someone, or break mom’s favourite ceiling fan.

Also, when playing Friday The Thirteenth, don’t use a real meat-cleaver. That’s just an accident waiting to happen. Bob The Builder fans shouldn’t use a real hammer, either.

Remember to be Wii-sponsible. Only you can prevent Wii deaths.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Acupuncture Continues

Needle-needle-needle, I made you out of clay! Needle… oh wait. That’s wrong.

This is an acupuncture needle. It is the sharpest thing I’ve ever touched. Holding it for this shot was nearly impossible, as its own weight practically drove it through my skin, yet, any less pressure on it caused it to fall out of my fingers.

This reminded me of the incredible sensitivity of old nitro-glycerin, especially in that season 1 episode of Macgyver! You know the one where he takes the nitro from the dilapidated shack, then loads it onto a truck with a mattress-spring bed? Yeah.

As Macgyver drives, the leaking nitro-glycerin drips out of the casing, and the weight of each drop actually causes mini-explosions. Not the kind of explosions you’d see from a moonshine still exploding, but they were substantial.

I am continuing to have acupuncture done on my feet by Jarek as the pain seems to worsen almost daily. During regularly-occurring physiotherapy and acupuncture conferences, Jarek has explained my neuropathic pain to his colleagues, as it is an interesting case.

With dozens of minds working together, they’ve come up with other points to try the needles. This is good because my nerves are hypersensitive to touch, and the usual points that work to stimulate endorphins have become too painful to use.

In the meantime, I occasionally drink legally-purchased alcohol to quell the burning and deep, deep walking pain. For the record, I don’t really know anything about homemade hooch.


Wednesday, January 24, 2007

A Nightmarish Birthday

What a Ham, hamming it up for the camera.

Last night we joined my parents to help celebrate my mom’s birthday. We brought presents and a camera, and our cake-appetites, but we weren’t prepared for the carnage that was about to torment us.

Upon our arrival we were met by a hungry baby Zombie. The Zombie was playful at first, but that just gave us a false sense of security. Alcoholic beverages oozing with Bailey's goodness eased our minds for a short time - but reality was about to set in.

Running around the house growling “baby Zombie! baby Zombie!”, the undead toddler began to grow restless. He attacked in a more forceful manner, head-butting the party guests, hoping to knock them unconscious so that he could dine on jugulars at his leisure.

After every shot, Seebie would yell ‘Me see! Me see!’We fought back valiantly against the hungry baby Zombie. He grasped and stretched, but found himself unable to reach our tender necks. Grandpa unwittingly picked him up, only to find baby Zombie hungry for wrinkled skin. The carnage was put on hold when the birthday cake came out. Baby Zombie was distracted by the candles, which he loves to blow out. After a few re-lights, Grandma was able to finally blow out her own candles. But Zombie baby got the last laugh by ramming his 2-year-old fingers into the cake, hoping for a handful of icing.

I was able to distract the lil’ Zombie by showing him his own mop of curly hair in a mirror. “Me afo baby!” came the shouts of joy. Yes, Afro baby indeed.

But it didn’t last long. Zombie baby’s final act of agression left his only brother lying dead on the floor. Thankfully “Pencha” was revived by the magic of Chocolate Lucky Charms. After a breif sugar-high, an announcement was made: time to go home!

The two cranky boys crankily cried their way to the front door where their boots were pulled onto their crankified feet. With the tiny Zombie and his older brother headed home, grandma was happy she would live to celebrate another birthday.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Tender To Environment

Looks like a sack of giant fries.

My sister gave me some packing material. I am not moving, yet I still found much enjoyment in the packing material. This packing material came from the land of the rising sun, successfully preventing the destruction of some sensitive Honda vehicle parts. I hope you find enjoyment in it as well.

ECO-PACK, tender to environment
Super Ecolo Anincorporated Company
15-1, Tegara, Himeji, Hyogo-Pref., Japan
Phone: (0792) 22-2951

Since this bag contains “Ecolo-master”, tender to environment, it serves to powerfully eliminate the hydrogen chloride, a factor to generate the dioxins from general refuse within incineration furnace. It also brings about such effects as to reduce the acid gas generated.

Different from conventional buffer material
- Recycled product .
- You may throw “Eco-pack” after use as a general wastes.
- You can burn “Eco-pack” in low calorie.
- “Eco-pack” is not edible.

Chances of contracting an E-coli bacterial infection is less than 1%I disagree. In trying to eliminate my own acid gas, which was the main cause of undie-destruction, I went against the bag’s recommendation and ate some Eco-pack fries. The Ecolo-master bits are edible, however, they’re not the tastiest thing I’ve put ketchup on. And stop making fun of the disgusting condition of my ketchup bottle. It’s not like I’ve got nine kids who make ketchup & onion sandwiches every day.

Are you in the packing industry? Looking for a way to reduce your environmental footprint? Feeling guilty about the terrible things you’ve done to the planet? Give the Super Ecolo Anincorporated Company a call.

The most cost-effective way of acquiring some top notch Japanese packing material is to order one sack, then ask them to pack it carefully with their high-quality Eco-packs you’ve heard so much about.

Use the Eco-pack to protect such things as historical Japanese artifacts you’ve smuggled out of their country, the new 500-hp, all-wheel-drive Nissan Skyline, and your Hello Kitty bobblehead collection.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Boring Bubblicious

I left two packs of gum in a dark room and look what happened!

Remember Bubblicious? And Hubba Bubba? And Bubble Yum? I haven't seen Bubble Yum in decades, but recently somebody gave me four different packs of Bubblicious to chew.

The flavours, as seen above, were Savage Sour Apple, Carnival Cotton Candy, Strawberry Splash, and Lebron's Lightning Lemonade.

I was very excited to try the Cotton Candy flavour. The only thing more deliciouser than Carnival Cotton Candy is home made Cotton Candy. It's available in various colours and flavours, Pink being my favourite. The gum, however, was blue. And surprisingly low in sugary goodness. But that didn't stop me from cramming all five pieces in my mouth.

Blue gum.Next I tried Lebron's Lightning Lemonade. It too, lacked in the sugar department, and I wondered why this Lebron fellow would endorse such a platitudinous chewing product. I looked him up on the internet to find out more. It didn't take long for me to dig up some info on this dude. Turns out Lebron is a member of the NBA (National Bubblegum Association), and therefore a shill. Desperate for cash, I'm sure he'll promote anything.

After that bland experience, I prepared my mouth for super-awesome sourness. I tried the Savage Sour Apple and was blown away by the flat taste. Only a muted sourness escaped the squishy green block.

I wasn't prepared to torture my tastebuds any more, so I passed on the Strawberry Splash gum. I suspect its uninspired taste would have bored my tastebuds to death.

So, what happened to the juicy, granular sugary gum which was Bubblicious? Were they pressured by anti-sugar lobbyists? Dentists must be furious, while the toothfairy has an incomplete addition on her tooth castle.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Lexus RX350 Test Drive

The RX350. If you're looking for luxury, look elsewhere.

An Editor at our local paper asked me to accompany her on a test-drive of the new Lexus RX350 SUV, and she brought it by my house on the weekend.

The RX350's biggest improvement over the RX330 is the extra 47 horsepower pumped out by the V-6. It's now an even 270. But even that amount of power didn't make this all-wheel-drive SUV feel particularly fast. However, that might be due to the fact that I was hammering it on ice.

Yes, in the middle of our ice storm I was sliding around, testing out the all-wheel-drive and the traction control (beepbeepbeep!) system. Weighing four thousand lbs., I thought the 350 would dig in and hold the snow. But it didn't. And that's a good thing.

It didn't feel "dead" like many TC-equipped cars. The system actually allowed some noticeable wheel slippage before it sucked the fun away. For people who really like to drive, this SUV seems a perfect fit. What I didn't like was how incredibly stiff the gas pedal was. It was only a 30 minute drive, and my right leg was exhausted.

Nice ass.Maybe that's how Lexus keeps fuel economy down. After all, this thing guzzles the petrol, achieving a pathetic (U.S.) 24 mpg. The 2006 Porsche 911, with 55 more horsepower, gets 26 mpg. But nobody will really notice, because they'll be too distracted by the soft leather and real wood finishes inside. I crashed into six parked cars simply because I was admiring the beautiful orange-toned wood grain. In fact, I didn't even notice the police until they threw a spike strip down in front of me. A quick yank on the nice thick steering wheel and I had evaded them. Yep, the RX350 is nimble, and feels more like a car and less like a big truck.

Until you try and parallel park. On the passenger side, the blind spot is about the size of a beige Corolla. Don't ask me how I know that. I just do.

When I think of Lexus, and the brand they've built over the years, I'm forced to think of luxury. I expect to be pampered in a Lexus. But this is not the case with the RX350. There are no luxurious features of note. Except, possibly, the auto windshield wipers and headlights.

Nope, I'm wrong. Lots of other manufacturers have these too.

Sound from the 8-speaker stereo was sub-par. Sure, it went loud, but even at normal levels it sounded plasticky and lifeless. Speaking of plastic, there must have been a huge sale at the plastic factory when they designed the centre console. Real wood trim combined with more cheap plastic than you could shake a stick at. What's up Lexus?

Finally, the RX350 has two, count 'em, two distracting noises invading the cabin. At highway speeds there's an awful lot of wind noise, which can possibly be attributed to the roof rack. At lower speeds it disappears, while a terrible engine drone starts instead. It's especially annoying from idle, up to about 2,500 rpm.

$54,000 (Cdn, as tested) seems pretty steep for a lot of steel and noise. Overall, it was simply 'Okay'. On the steak-scale, I give it a T-bone: Substanial, but not very tasty. If it wasn't for the unacceptable noise levels, I could live with it.

One-and-a-half Martini-thumbs down to the Lexus RX350.

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Wednesday, January 17, 2007


Choco-fudge-brownie-diarrhea extreme cake.

Very recently, Suz had a birthday. In accordance with her annual wish, I did not have a big party for her. The party existed, but was quite small in nature. Small being a couple of close friends, along with my parents. Her parents were in transit from the Ottawa area, and were expected late in the evening.

Everybody gathered 'round the coffee table and exchanged humourous stories, many involving midgets and frankfurters.

After examining the contents of our fridge, I went back into the living room and offered drinks to everyone. Surprisingly, nobody wanted beer. They all wanted fruity, girly drinks. Every single one of them, including Hulk Hogan, who stopped by for a minute.

When I met the Hulkster a few weeks ago, I didn't believe he could tear his t-shirt in half. I suggested it was a stunt set up with a pre-torn shirt, and he took offense to that. Anyway, he showed up, tore his shirt in half, chugged an orange sherbet super-fluffy mega-swirl, and left.

All this left me distracted, and even though I knew something was missing, I forgot the birthday cake. Completely.

I saw the cake in the fridge when I grabbed drinks for everyone, and it still slipped my mind. A little while later, everyone left, with empty stomachs, probably cursing me, and shaking their fists in the air.

When Suz's parents showed up, with a cake of their own, I cronked my undies. A rubber mallet of guilt smashed me in the face. My cake was wasted. But we ate it anyway.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

What An Ice Surprise

Stairs, made of wood, illuminated by fire. Good thinking.Yesterday there was an ice storm. It was a strange storm, as the grey sky relentlessly dropped icy sleet over the city.

When I went to work it took me 30 minutes to scrape my car. People who didn’t - then crashed - had to scrap their cars. Just before lunch I left for a doctor’s appointment. Again, I had to scrape my car. But this time something was different. The weather wasn’t cold. The wind wasn’t really blowing, yet the ice rain that fell from the clouds froze instantly. I scraped my windshield and hopped in my car. I turned on the wipers only to discover everything had frozen, again.

In three seconds, another sheet of ice had formed on my windshield. I have never seen anything like it.

If it wasn’t for my haste to get to my appointment, I would have enjoyed it. I like the winter. I like snow, and ice, and bizarre storms.

Little birds, like this chubby Cardinal in my backyard, seemed to enjoy it also, as he played in the crystallized branches. But frightened squirrels, raccoons, and hobos hunkered down in people’s attics to wait it out.

As I returned home from work I came upon an eerie sight. No, it wasn’t hobos climbing out of chimneys. It was Darkness. Only car headlights illuminated the streets. Businesses were closed. Candles flickered from windows.

I pulled into my driveway, wishing, for the 793rd time, that I had some photovoltaic cells on the roof. Even just enough to run one light. And maybe the heater in my aquarium. And maybe the microwave. Aw heck, the furnace too.

I grabbed a handful of tea lights and a few bigger candles and had our house glowing in no time. I turned on the fireplace to get some heat in the house. When Suz arrived home a short time later, it was a nice, warm welcome for her.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Huge Russian Aircraft

Holy mackeral! This cargo giant can haul 44,000 tons of fish.

On Christmas day I did something different. I love driving around on December 25th. Everything is so calm and quiet. It's exciting to think, "I'm the only person out here."

So, what did I do? I picked up my dad and we drove out to the local airport, where I used to work. Everything was eerily silent, save for two strange men who, with a Ford Lightning pickup, were illegally dumping a load of garbage into one of the airport's giant trash bins.

I didn't care. I was just glad they weren't dumping their stuff on conservation land. I climbed up on that same giant garbage dumpster to get a better look at the beheomoth that was the reason for our visit.

There, sitting on the runway, was a monster larger than a C-5 Galaxy. At one time, not very long ago, it was the largest plane in the world. It's the Antonov 124, and it has been coming to our local airport once a week for over 10 years.

Wheels galore. A total of 24 to be exact.This Russian cargo plane is incredible to say the least. Inside, it lifts its elephantite cargo with overhead cranes, and has a maximum take-off weight of nearly one million pounds. The known cargo carried by the Antonov is equally impressive. In the past 5 years, it has transported a 109-ton locomotive, a whale, other aircraft, and at our little airport it was loaded with 14 fully modified Ambulances destined for Saudi Arabia.

Propelled by four massive Lotarev D-18 turbofans, it's maximum speed is just over 500 mph. Think about that for a second. It can carry the largest mammal on earth at twice the speed of a lightweight, whale-less* F-1 car.

Try hitching a trailer of wet sod to your Lamborghini Gallardo and seeing how fast you can go. I bet it's not very fast. Also, Lamborghini doesn't recommend attaching a trailer hitch to their exquisite, high-performance products.

As huge as the 124 is, there is a plane even larger, also built by those persistent (obsessed) Russian engineers. It's the Antonov 225, originally designed to carry the Russian space shuttle. Whoa.

*provided Rosie O'Donnel isn't driving

Thursday, January 11, 2007

24 Is Back...

Jack shows us the proper way to take a knife in the shoulder.

And I've already seen the first two episodes. Some sneaky person, using all the stealth in his power, leaked the first two episodes to the internet last week. Some other sneaky person who shall remain anonymous, downloaded the two episodes.

With its incredible linking power, a D-Link allowed us to watch the first two episodes on Mr. Anonymous's very nice 42-inch Plasma TV.

The first episode contained enough surprises to be considered pretty good. As is typical of 1-hour TV shows, it was one hour. Although, it was actually 18 minutes shorter, because the commercials were missing. For 42 minutes we suffered through mild pixelation and occasional annoying green splotches on people's faces.

Our suffering did not compare to Jack Bauer's, however. He endured some pain, but he's a tough dude, and can take it. I think over the years he has proven at least that much. After all, the dude actually died, and was brought back to life. I know what you're thinking because I also wondered the same thing. But no, this ain't no Pet Semetary: When brought back, Jack did not become possessed by some violent creature who was bent on torture and killing. Thank goodness for that.

The second episode was a trade-off. Frame rate was sacrificed for a clean picture with no green blobs. It was difficult to watch, as it only played at about 16 frames per second, just like my first Sony digital camera.

It was an exciting episode that did not repeat a lot of information from the first episode, which goes against normal 24 dialogue. I can't tell you how insane I went during last season when they mentioned Centox Gas Canisters no less than 52 times per episode. It's not like everyone was sitting around asking, "Wait. What kind of gas did he say? I missed that part."

I don't know what's more exciting - watching 24, or making fun of 24. Or maybe its seeing the first two episodes before they air.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Saved By Dr. McGuillicuddy

Martini-style Bellinis
During the holidays we had a couple of friends over, and one of them surprised us with a bottle of bubbly Bellini. We all enjoyed Bellinis at a local trendy restaurant whose name eludes me at the moment.

This restaurant serves their Bellinis in a mixture of crushed ice avec les petites plastic animals sitting on top. I saved a bunch of the neon-ish quadrupeds and brought them home. I'm sure Dollarama sells one hundred of them for a dollar, but who wants a hundred little plastic animals? And for a dollar? I tell you there are at least two other things I'd rather spend one dollar on.

Anyway, we decided to experiment with the bottle of Bellini. We loaded up the blender with ice cubes and a Gremlin, and pushed one of the many buttons which are essentially labelled the same.

Grind, chop, puree, crush, slightly crush, destroy. They all do the same thing. I don't know why there are 24 different settings.

Our first attempt was a failure. When the Bellini mixed with the crushed ice, it tasted watered-down. So we poured liquid Bellini and a few ice cubes directly into the blender and mixed them together.

The result? Failure. Again. For the second time, it was too watery. To get the proper ratio, we put a few ice cubes into the Martini glasses, along with the right amount of Bellini. Then we dumped the glasses into the blender and tried again.

Failure. That blasted H20 had overpowered the Bellini juice for a third and final time. We could have experimented more, but the bottle was not one of those magical bottomless kinds. Luckily we were able to salvage our Bellinis with a simple process: By adding a very, very healthy dose of the doctor's Peach Shnapps.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Blogger's A Bitch

Blogger's been a bitch lately, and not the kind that obeys your command.

For an entire day, Blogger was down, preventing any kind of posting. But not only has Blogger been preventing us Bloggers from writing posts, but it actually denied everyone access from reading blogs. Why am I being denied acess from a server which contains the stories that I wrote, that I OWN?

Get your act together Blogger, because there are many other blog sites out there which us Bloggers can switch to.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Castlevania, Shit!

Castlevania 3, filled with 3x the levels, 3x the skeletons and 3x the curses.Doing my annual Google-search for "Castlevania" just before Christmas, I discovered something that made me nearly sh*t my pantaloons. At first I didn't believe what I read. After all, it is the internet, or Lie-Central as I like to call it.

But, curiously, I delved deeper. Finally I came upon my ultimate proof at IMDB.com, where no lies may penetrate, and chance of rumours is less than 2%! My hands were actually shaking like a sugar-deprived diabetic when I confirmed the news:

Castlevania, one of the greatest video-game franchises in the history of gaming, is being made into a movie.

I've been waiting for this moment since I was 15 years old. Konami, for the third time since "Castlevania" debuted in 1986, had shot an arrow of Dracula-Doppelganger-skeleton-Leviathan-Medusa Head love through my heart. After plunking down an extremely hard-earned $85 for "Dracula's Curse", the final NES instalment of Dracula-killing awesomeness, I knew that a movie was a definite possibility. After 3 hit games, I wondered why Konami wasn't pursuing it.

When the Playstation first debuted in the 1990s, another Castlevania game emerged. Symphony Of The Night was, and is, so phenomenal that it was unofficially declared to be the best video game ever created and/or The Best 2D Video Game ever made. Don't believe me? Google it.

I've seen this game offered for sale on eBay and other such websites for as much as $325 U.S., a whopping 540% higher than its original cost! Even a used one can easily fetch double its original retail price.

What does this all mean? Castlevania is hot. Right, Paris?

And Konami, realising this, has finally approved the shift from game to big screen. But there's a problem. Their $50-million budget won't help them when Paul W.S. Anderson starts directing the movie straight into the ground. Apparently Dimension Films dropped the project due to Mr. Anderson's unworthy script.

The movie still has the go-ahead, although, from Universal Studios' Rogue Pictures. Shit.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

We Went To A Wedding

He hasn't even had a drink yet.

Weddings are fun. People drink. People dance. Unless there's terrible music. There's almost always a rotten song thrown in for whatever reason, but occasionally the DJ will be gold all night long.

I don't think there is an appropriate wedding behaviour, and I think everyone enjoys a little goofiness. And the wedding I attended this New Year's weekend certainly had its share of goofiness, as well as a small amount of wackiness.

On top of that, the oddness going on that night was in abundance. There was some definite evil-type looks coming from Suz and her CBC-radio reporter sis, Beck, all night long. I was able to capture one such look here. And, at the risk of giving himself away to the good guys, there were shifty-eyed stares coming from Suz's '68 convertible-Camaro-driving bro, Nels. He didn't get caught, so I'm assuming there will be a sequel.

But the night wasn't all angry evil glares and squinty looks. There were smiley moments from Suz, and her sis & mom, moments of pure giddyness, and awkward moments where wedding-party photography was interrupted due to bathroom pilgrimages by yours truly.

Couples had their picture taken at the entrance, perhaps for some kind of wedding memory book. And that reminded Suz & me of our wedding. Polaroids were taken of our guests, and were then pasted into a wedding memories type book. Once complete, the book was passed around the tables, and the couples wrote messages to us beside their Polaroid.

However, over the years problems and arguments have caused many of those guests to break up, and even get divorced. Virtually 20% of the couples at our wedding have separated resulting in roughly 8 people whom I will never see again. Our wedding book is full of strangers now.

I hope that doesn't happen with the guests who attended this New Year's wedding.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Gifts That Warm The Heart

The leaning tower of scotch? Um, no.

Three times a year, maybe, I would indulge in some sweet alcholic beverages. At least, that's how it used to be. But things have changed recently and I've been trying new drinks, and more often. I don't want to become an alcoholic, and I don't think I am, but 3 times a year has turned into 3 times a month. At least.

My neighbour, the same neighbour who hacked down our vine, showed up at the door last week and offered some Christmas gifts: a box of amazing homemade truffles, and a 375 ml bottle of Special Reserve single malt Glenfiddich Scotch, aged 12 years.

I'm no scotch expert, but apparently you will burn in hell if you mix this splendid drink with ginger ale. One ice cube is all that is permitted to mingle with this fine Scottish whiskey.

Colonal Kwik-e-Mart's Kentucky Bourbon is a close 2nd.A day or two later Suz and I drove up to the Ottawa region for Christmas, a wedding, and New Year's. With our spongy snow tires, and fully loaded with gifts and our luggage, our Insight averaged a poor 4.7 litres per 100 km (60.1 mpg). But once we arrived, my fuel mileage sorrows were wiped away. I was totally surprised when Suz's cousin, A, gave us a most excellent gift: a 375 ml bottle of absolute deliciousness. Southern Comfort!

No music will go undanced to. No karaoke song will go unsung. No joke will go unsaid. And no shouts of joy will go unyelled. This liquid candy will soon be gracing my stomach lining, infusing my body with the Power Of Bourbon and transforming me into a giant Wal-Martish smiley face.

Thanks A, for the awesome bottle of yum!


This many people accidentally stumbled upon my site
...while searching for porn.