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

Friday, March 30, 2007

My Cereal Cupboard

It’s like a grocery store, only less sexy.This is my cereal cupboard. It contains a variety of delicious breakfast foods that I enjoy eating when I eventually drag my weary ass out of bed, which is usually half an hour too late.

On the top shelf you'll notice such tasty things as Nesquik and Reese Puffs greasy Peanut Butter Cups cereal. No, you’re not crazy. (Well, okay, maybe a little) Those boxes are quite a bit smaller than regular cereal boxes. They are 160 and 165 grams, respectively. They cost one dollar each. A steal considering a 360 gram box of Nesquik costs over $4.

To the left is my Carnation Instant Breakfast. These things are like chocolate candy milkshakes. The only thing better would be cotton candy coated bacon with some super awesome homefries on the side.

On the next shelf is 2 boxes of Boo Berry, one box of Franken Berry. I bought a disgusting number of boxes of the famous Monster Cereals on a trip to the states one fine November.

After eating them for breakfast and for dinner for 3 straight months, and creating my own variation of them, I became sick of them. The eating ceased. Even now their staleness penetrates my tastebuds and repulses my stomach. Yet, for some unknown reason, I refuse to throw them out.

Nestled on top is an emtpy box of Double Chocolate Cookie Crisp. I really should get rid of that one. To the left of those are two of Suz's cereals. They are more the healthy variety, so I don’t touch them.

On the bottom shelf you will find one box of Brown Sugar Mini Wheats and one unopened box of Chocolate Lucky Charms. I'm the founding member of CLCA (Chocolate Lucky Charms Anonymous) and therefore fight my urges without a sponsor. I've restricted my Chocluck intake to the weekend only, and it usually only lasts for one weekend - as 5 bowls is a typical breakfast for me.

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Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Twenty Years of Technology

P4, son of Abacus.In 1987 my parents bought a home computer for my sister and me. It was an IBM clone 286 with a quarter meg of RAM and came with a mouse, which was unheard of at the time.

My friends were amazed by the VGA colour monitor, but very disappointed that we couldn’t swap files because of the weird new 3" disk drive. Years later even our high school computers still used 5-1/4 disks, so I could never bring anything home to work on. Nothing could be saved to our hard drive without deleting one of the two programs it came with and the modem was literally useless because there was no one else we could connect to. In fact, my mom was the only person who even knew what a modem was.

It's like I have lived the past 20 years in a cocoon. And I finally broke out of the crusty brown thing this weekend when I bought my first DVD-burner, a Pioneer model. It was on sale at a place called Summit Direct for $39. I thought it was a good deal, although, admittedly, I have no idea.

It's a 40x8x12 if I remember correctly. Again, I have no idea if this is good, but for $39, I didn’t think I could go wrong.

I also picked up some Kodak 8x re-writeable DVD -Rs. Each DVD holds 4.7 gigs of info, which is 50% larger than the hard drive from my old Pentium 2. The 50-pack cost $16. For $16 I could have bought eight mini cartons of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, or 6-1/2 cupcakes from Cupcakes, or 3 minutes of time here.

After installing the burner and the Nero 7 software, I burned my first DVD on the weekend. It felt like 2001. Man, I’ve a lot of catching up to do.

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Monday, March 26, 2007


Dump in the wasp, add 3 cans of water and stir. Waspalicious.

Everywhere we look there are indications that spring is fast approaching. Fat, puffy robins letting all their chub hang around their feet sit on soggy earth and watch for breakfast. Rain rolls off their backs, penetrates defrosted ground and gives birth to tulips. And wasps, too weak to fly, crawl across our kitchen floor threatening the tender bottoms of our early morning feet.

I barely missed stepping on this dangerous guy as I went to feed the hungry kitties. When I spotted him, I scooped him up in a green juice jug which we no longer use for juice.

The jug’s duty has shifted from holding liquids for human consumption, so if you’re visiting and you see me serving you a drink from this jug, I probably don’t like you.

During the summer we would occasionally find a wasp crawling in our house, but we were never able to determine where they were coming from. There’s no nest around our house, and we rarely see wasps or hornets in our yard, so I’m curious as to where they’re coming from.

I don’t know how this wasp got into our house and I’m glad the starving kitties didn’t try to eat him. But if they did, they’d probably just barf him up 3 minutes later. Barf, and barf-soaked socks. It’s a tradition around our house.

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Friday, March 23, 2007

Computers Get The Boot

Anyone want to network these bad boys together and play a round of Scorched Earth?

So, I gave my two old computers the boot. But not just any boot. No, these nearly-obsolete pieces of once fine equipment were not sent to the curb, not picked up by Joey Joe-Joe Jr. Shabadu, and will not find themselves slowly rusting in some municipal dump. Nope, I gave them a very special boot into the world of recycling.

Recycling computers is awesome. It saves the world from, well, a great big pile of trashed computers. It also creates a large range of jobs which Canada so desperately needs.

Except Alberta. Rotten, filthy stinking rich Alberta…

*Ahem* Anyway, it reminds me of something Suz taught me. Now, I’m the kind of guy who can’t fall asleep if I so much as accidentally drop some garbage on the ground – and leave it there. But, to help me feel better about it, Suz taught me what her friend taught her. It’s a line which holds a lot of meaning if someone challenges your decision to drop trash in a public place. A simple reply is all that’s required: "I’m keepin’ jobs in Canada."

And it’s totally true. If crusty people didn’t litter, then the prisoners who clean it up wouldn’t have jobs. And if big tattooed muscley dudes with a penchant for stabbing can’t focus on holding down a prison "job", then how can our system rehabilitate their bent minds?

Yep, garbage is good. If it weren’t for garbage, I think the overcrowded prisons would be more… uh… overcrowded.


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Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Cheerleader Tryouts

Being an expert at The Chicken Dance doesn’t guarantee you a spot on the team.

On the weekend Jodster, one of the founding fathers of Useless Advice From Useless Men, asked me to accompany him to Tiger-Cat cheerleader tryouts. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you're probably right.

Jodster tried out.

It was an amusing train-wreck - one that was wrecked on purpose in order to bring smiles to people’s faces, as my purpose there was to film the entire 'incident'. But in reality, Jodster didn't have to try hard to make a fool of himself in front of the girls.

The afternoon wasn't simply spent watching girls dance. Okay I'll be honest. It was. But in addition to that, I filmed Jodster as he interviewed some of the girls trying out, as well as the Ti-Cats Head Cheerleading Coach & Choreographer, Leslie Stewart.

If you want to see who the cheerleaders were last season, you can check them out here. On the bio page you'll note that the status of half the girls is "single". I think they do this so that guys will think they can "get" them, and come to the games. However, I think the website should say things like:

Status: In a rocky relationship

Status: In a relationship, but looking to experiment

Status: In desperate need of a one night stand.

There's some logic behind this. Not a lot, but some, I assure you. If the girls are simply listed as "single", some guys might think that they aren't looking for a relationship at the moment. That they want to be single, or maybe even that they’re too hard to "get". But if the girls look vulnerable, or available, chances are a couple of guys will think they can rush in and rescue the girl from the jerk she's with.

And those guys are me and the Jodster. So back off everybody. Don't make us dance…

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Monday, March 19, 2007

St. Patty's Day 2007

Green with envy?

It's March 19, 2007.
With the second anniversary of John DeLorean's passing, I imagine things get a little easier for his family. I also wonder how the Irish feel.

Ireland is rather unique mostly because of its history. Around here you don’t have to look far to find at least one person who claims to love the land of Leprechauns, the birthplace of U2 and of the DeLorean DMC-12.

This St. Patty’s day, Suz and I went out for dinner with our friends Ottobot and K. We decided to go to the pub early as we knew it would be bursting at the seams come 8 p.m.

We made a mistake.

Six-thirty, with the sun shining, wasn’t nearly early enough. As we entered, we joined the groups of green-beer-craving University students who were already waiting for a place to drink.

As the table next to us departed, we took the opportunity to sneak in ahead of the others who waited deeper inside. When the waitress asked for our orders, I specifically asked if she could dye my gin & tonic green.

"Anything that’s clear." came the shout over the raucus. I gave her a big thumbs up and told her to totally go for it. A few minutes later the green dye was staining our stomach linings.

I never usually go out for St. Patrick’s Day, but this night I found myself remembering the little rubber Leprechaun accessory that the previous owner sent along with my DeLorean. "The Luck o’ the Irish" it stated.

Coincidentally, or not, the next day Suz got a call from someone at the DeLorean Owner’s Association asking if we’d be attending the Las Vegas event. The Red Rock Resort & Casino agreed to provide a special room rate of $229/night for Association members, which includes the hotel’s resort fee. Tickets to the event are $225 per member, and $325 for non-member and tickets are available at www.deloreanstore.com

The best part about it, by far, is the morning rallye across the Hoover Dam, where a professional will photograph the line of lucky drivers.

Unfortunately it’s going to be tough to get time off work to go, and it’s also a pretty expensive 3-day event. If we’re going to come up with the money before the end of March (the price jumps up April 1) I think we’re going to need the Luck o’ the Irish.

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Friday, March 16, 2007

All Growed Up

Were these my standard undies, that kitty would have X's for eyes. Plus she'd be upside down.

When I was 16, all my friends were getting their driver's licences while I was content, nay - extremely happy - to ride my bike everywhere. When I finally turned 18, and acquired a job at our local airport, my parents forced me to get my licence.

Life changed.

When I graduated college with a diploma, ecstatic co-graduates, teachers and friends forced me to celebrate with them.

Life changed.

And when I got married a few years ago, common sense and marriage tradition forced me to go on a honeymoon to exotic, tropical Pennsylvania's Pocono Mountains.

Life changed.

But it wasn't until last week that I, barely into my third decade of existence, became a grown-up. Yep. I bought my own underwear for the first time in my life.

And what a sweet deal Sears had! Boxers were all on sale for 30 and 40% off. So I took the opportunity to update my holey, faded and unstitched shredded rags that cover me tender bits.

And with that, I have severed my last needy tie to my mommy. Yep, I'm all growed up.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007

New Computer - $0

NASA put a monkey into space with less than this.

Money comes and money goes, but in my household, money does go spent upgrading my computer every time something new comes out, which, in the computer world, is about once every 4 days.

Nope, I get my computers from the garbage. But I don’t have to go dumpster-diving to find them. I simply sit and wait - and they come to me.

My good friend BPZ has come through once again and supplied me with a whopping 2.4 Ghz Pentium 4 which used to be his company computer. When they upgraded his home computer, the old one, which is outdated by their standards, was slated for recycling. Instead, it will replace my P3 450. As BPZ points out, my old computer is the ‘point four’ of the new one.

This one came loaded with circuit boards, wires, boxes that hummed and tilt steering. It even had a big fan that spun around, dizzying the eyes and mind. The circuit boards were covered in little nubbies and bits of shiny stuff.

Very cool.

It also came with a CD burner, which I’ve never had before. I don’t know how they fit matches in there, and I don’t know why anyone would want to melt a CD, but considering people use them as coasters, I guess someone had to invent more fun things to do with them.

I do enjoy my new computer very much. If it weren’t for the tempting, candy-like ASUS finger-grater located directly in the middle, I would’ve considered the computer less of a torture device and more of a toy.

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Monday, March 12, 2007

Incredible Giant Puppy

Remember to bend at the knees when picking up large dogs.

My sister has a new baby to play with, scamper with and guard her other two babies. She was feeling out-numbered by the four male creatures living in her house: a husband, two sons and a cat. I’m not sure about the Hamster.

If she was French there would be a heck of a lot more male things in the house. The only thing keeping the female balance would be all the fenetres and portes.

So, to even things out a bit, she acquired a female Burnese Mountain Dog. Animal size was the other reason behind getting the chick dog. The boy dogs are insanely huge. Not Scooby-Doo huge, but they’ll certainly make an average person feel like Gary Coleman.

At only 8 weeks old, her new Burnese Mountain Puppy has paws nearly as big as a human hand. And she’ll sit there and let you hold her paw as long as you want.

Or, until she gets bored and wants to slobber someplace else. Like on my submarine sandwich when I’m not looking. I will turn around and pick it up, wondering why all the gooey Sub Sauce is leaking all over the place, and take a big bite, squirting the gummy doggy drool all over the table (or "la table" in French) and everyone will laugh - just like Fred and the gang often laugh at Scooby’s antics in the malt shop. Scooby will inevitably shift his eyes upward in an attempt to look entirely innocent as he whistles some unknown tune.

The scene will end with Velma saying "what a ham." and Scooby’s trademark "Wooby-wooby Woooooo!"

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Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Art, Finally

These paintings are rated G and are suitable for all audiences.Procrastination aside, there hasn’t really been a good reason why I haven’t hung the pictures that Beck brought back from Thailand for us. Yes, we had to buy picture frames, but really, there has been no other reason.

Suz’s sis, who pretty much has the best taste in all the land, picked up the paintings on her Thailand/Asia adventure last year. The paintings are done on some sort of extra-thin rice paper which may or may not be edible.

I think if war broke out in Canada, and all sources of food were cut off, and every last bit of food had been plundered by the invading pirates, I could eat the paintings and survive just long enough for the doctors to find me and put me in a military hospital where all the food tastes even worse than the paintings.

Anyway, these super-cool 6x8 paintings, jam-packed with Asian awesomeness, have sat in our Buddha cabinet for a year. We finally became fed up with our barren dining room walls and decided to hang them.

Carefully, I measured and drilled. Then I pounded some plastic anchors into the wall. A couple of screws later and our dining room was 12% closer to completion. To see a larger image of one of the paintings, click here.

The next step, I suppose, will be curtains to prevent the pirates from looking at us while we eat our microwave dinners.

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Friday, March 02, 2007

A Grip

Heat-treated for maximum happiness and efficiency for the user.

I’m still trying to get a handle on my new job, but it’s an uphill struggle. I need Ritchey Z Max type grip on these duties, rather than some bald Panaracers, or I’ll start sliding downhill into an abyss of depression fueled by broken blue-screen 8-bit NES games of frustration.

I really need a less sweaty grip on things, because I’m tired of working 13 hours of overtime each week. That’s 13 hours I could spend riding, sitting on our busted Ikea couch watching Golden Girls reruns, or ingesting delicious bagels.

Speaking of food, I’m also tired of eating dinner at 11 p.m. then going straight to bed. I want more time to do things like brush my teeth, tie my boots and have a bath. But not necessarily in that order.

The solution to my problems would be simple: a lighter workload. But it would have to be ultra-light, super-light and uber-light. Yep, it would have to be even lighter than a heat-treated Syncros T6061 aluminum handlebar.

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