Random Thoughts from a Random World

Back by popular demand (I may be exaggerating slightly to highly), I present to you for your reading pleasure another installment of Random Thoughts. As always, these are random thoughts from my mind and they are in no particular order...

1. Yesterday I saw a long haired girl walking by my work. She was wearing a large red headband (not one of those ear warmer headbands, but a "fat guy playing basketball" headband) and what can be best described as a huge black cape. It made me think that I either really don't understand women's fashion or mental illness. Either way, it was a bit disturbing. It also sort of made me want a cape.

2. I heard a story about a woman that decided to walk into a bank wearing a garbage bag (one would assume it was over her head). It didn't state whether there were eye holes cut out, but again you would assume so. So this super intelligent woman walks up to the teller and shows her a knife. At this point a bystander in the bank sees what is happening and happens to have a taser gun in her purse. She pulls it out and proceeds to chase the garbage-bagged member of MENSA around the bank trying to taser her. The woman flees the bank out to where her accomplice and getaway wheelchair are waiting. Yes, that is correct, a getaway wheelchair. It is not clear whether or not she still is wearing the garbage bag at this point, but it would not surprise me if she was. Needless to say that they did not make it far. That just goes to show you that what might seem like a perfect plan is not always so. It also makes it funnier if you think of the garbage bag being a transparent one.

3. Apparently a guy that trained dolphins back in the 70s has written a book about his time with the dolphins. You're likely questioning why I mention this in my random thoughts...part of the story revolves around how he began to develop emotions for the dolphin. The dolphin eventually seduced him after he resisted its advances as long as he possibly could. This eventually led to a physical relationship. Yes, you read that correctly. He just couldn't resist the dolphin after a while and had the best relationship of his life. I can't make this stuff up. He then thought it was a great idea to write a book detailing this. Dolphins are smart, but who knew they were such master seducers? Keep this in mind should you ever go swimming with them.

4. If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you can feed him for life. If you beat a man with a fish, that is funny. People should be wary of fish beatings more than they are.

This concludes our broadcast day. I will leave you with these words of wisdom. Sometimes "good from far" is "far from good". Stay thirsty my friends.

If You're Not Living on the Edge, You're Taking Up Too Much Space

I like to think that I have lived my life on the edge just a little. Not in a crazy, cheating-death, devil-may-care way, but I do sometimes throw caution to the wind for a bit of adventure. I think that life is too short to live it without taking a few chances here and there. I've picked up and moved a few times (most recently my move to Toronto with an entire 3 weeks of planning beforehand), I've dated the crazy chick (numerous times), I've torn the "Do Not Remove" tag off my mattress, I've gone swimming right after eating, I've fed a Mogwai after midnight (thus turning it into a Gremlin. Did I just make an obscure reference to a very old movie?? Yes I did!), along with a few other things that shall remain a mystery at this time. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing.

Last summer I managed to cross off a major item on my lifetime to-do list. It was always something I've been interested in doing and I finally had the perfect opportunity to accomplish it. One of my more adventuresome friends, Lynn, invited me on a Zip-lining/Cave exploring getaway with some friends just outside of Ottawa. I readily agreed. I am usually good to go wherever adventure is concerned. We met up with Lynn's buddy in Ottawa and then headed across the province line to the zip-lining place in Quebec. We parked in the lot and then waited for an old school bus to come pick us up. Walking in the school bus was an unpleasant reminder of how they are not constructed for someone of my height. I had to walk all the way to my seat with my head way down to avoid smacking my head on a rivet (I've hit my head on one before, it is not fun at all). The bus took us up to the lodge where we suited up into the protective harnesses.  We then hiked up the hill into the woods to the beginning of the course. A "crash course" in using the lines and the clasps ensued. We basically had to hook onto a clothesline about 10 feet long, pull ourselves across and then unhook. Oh yeah the clothesline was about 4 feet off the ground. Not overly exciting by any means. After completing that rigorous training, we all moved on to the actual course. The course consisted of varying balancing activities followed by zipping across from platform to platform at differing heights. I have to say I enjoyed it a lot(except for the part where the side of my head got a little too close to the wire and I got scratched). Lots of thrills and good times. One of the girls called it quits after about 1/3 of the course because she was scared. Not everyone is cut out for adventure.

Part 2 of the adventure was the cave exploration. A group of us (complete with the miner lights attached to our helmets) went down into a huge cave and walked through all of the paths inside. Being 6'5 was not advantageous to me in this instance. There were a few small areas I struggled to get through. I had hoped to encounter a few bats or something, but none made an appearance. We exited the cave and as far as we knew at the time, the adventure ended there.

We grabbed some food at the on-site BBQ and while we were eating, Lynn and I somehow discovered a mutual interest in bungee jumping. I think I said I had always wanted to try it and she basically said that since it would piss her parents off she would do it too. Lynn's buddy just happened to know of a place very nearby and he even had a 2 for 1 COUPON! Yes sir that is how Dickie rolls, with Coups! Now that was a sign if ever there was one. That would have been one thing that potentially would have held me back, justifying upwards of $100 for about 20 seconds of adrenaline. But $50 for 20 seconds of adrenaline? Done! We drove to the Bungee Jumping place and quickly cashed in our 2 for 1 coupon and they advised us to hurry up the hill as they were closing soon. The following is the description directly off the Great Canadian Bungee website "Looking for the highest bungee jump in the land? Then look no further. Just 20 minutes from downtown Ottawa is "The Rock", home to Great Canadian Bungee's 200 ft. Goliath. Here you'll find one of the world's most spectacular and unique Bungee Jumping sites. Visualize an amphitheater of solid limestone, 200 ft. high, surrounding a 160 ft. deep aqua-blue, spring-fed lagoon, larger than 3 football fields. This is the only place in the Americas where one can experience a 200 ft. head (or body) dip. Your 160 ft. rebound is higher than the entire jump height at any other site in the US or Canada!". Well dip me in flour and call me "Ready"! Did I mention I have a small fear of heights?

We climbed to the top of the hill and then up on the metal apparatus that went out and over the vast chasm of water. The attendant asked us whether we wanted to be locked in by the ankles or by the waist. Being that I am reasonably thin I chose the ankles. As I was strapping the shackles on, a young girl (likely 20yrs old) came down the 60 foot walkway after her jump. She was wet, trembling, crying and just generally looked totally miserable. It was at this point that I decided there was absolutely no way I was getting off this platform without jumping off. Up to that point I was more than a bit nervous about the whole deal, but to see this little woman walk off after jumping I knew it had to be done. Otherwise I would never forgive myself. Generally there are some things in your life that you can back down from and it doesn't bother you much, but this would have been something that would have haunted me the rest of my days had I not gone through with it. I assume Lynn was a bit nervous as well, but she never showed it. She just wanted me to go first, presumably in case I died. After properly strapping in I walked the plank down to the end of the walkway to the jumping platform. I'm not going to lie, my legs felt heavy and sluggish walking down the walkway. It's like they knew what was coming and my primitive survival instinct was trying to prevent it from happening. There were two French guys ahead of me. As I got to the jumping area and took a seat on a small chair, one of the guys dove off the ledge, screaming the whole way down. As they started pulling him up using the winch system I could tell that the remaining guy was a bit conflicted about jumping - downright scared to death might be a better description. The first guy made it to the top and they unstrapped him. He sat down beside me and told me in broken english that I should definitely not do this and to go back, he thought he was going to have a heart attack. The angry red colour his face was made me think he might be correct about the heart attack. The second guy was inching his way to the edge painfully slow and looked like he might either vomit or piss his pants at any second. Perhaps both simultaneously. There were two attendants looking after the jumps and they were both encouraging him to help build up the courage to jump. He got to the end of the ledge and then backed way up, talking about how he couldn't do it. One of the attendants looked at me, shook his head and rolled his eyes in disgust at the guy. That further cemented my dedication to jump, I wasn't going to have these guys making these disgusted faces about me. The guy made one more attempt by inching his way to the end but again he backed off and said he just couldn't do it. When he turned around I could see he was crying a little, tear lines marked his face. Poor bastard. That episode likely still haunts him to this day. He might as well have cut off his testicles and handed them to the attendants. The non-jumper took his figuratively severed balls and did the walk of shame off the platform.

The attendants looked at me and asked if I wanted to go into the water or not. I mumbled that I didn't care but I was a little worried about losing a contact lens. The guys asked me if I was ready and I think I nodded, I could not speak at this point. I was a bit terrified. My legs felt like they were made of lead. I could see the rest of our group down below and they looked so small from that high in the air. I suddenly felt like this was a very bad idea. At the same time there was no going back now. I somehow edged my way to the end of the ledge and looked down, even though I knew I shouldn't look down. The 200+ feet drop looked more like 10,000 feet. That didn't settle my stomach at all. The attendant gave me the go ahead sign and to my surprise I willed myself to jump into the air and swan dive down into the abyss. It felt like I jumped high into the air and did a nice dive down, but after watching the video afterward it is more accurate to say my knees somewhat gave out and I just allowed myself to fall off the end. I cannot accurately describe what the feeling of plummeting to your possible demise at a crazy speed feels like. I have gone on countless rollercoasters and they do not even compare. I also thought I let out a triumphant yell on the way down but the video makes it sound more like a terrified scream. I came very close (within 2 feet) of hitting the water at the bottom but thankfully I didn't go in. They pulled me back up and congratulated me. I could hardly hear them with my heart beating the loudest I have ever felt it. I unharnessed and waited for Lynn to go. She came to meet me at the end after her jump looking much like the way I felt. We walked down the hill excitedly trying to describe the experience to each other, but I think we just kept yelling superlatives at each other without making any sense. One more thing to scratch off Dickie's To-Do List of Life.

Later that night I was still on a huge high from the experience. We all went out drinking in Ottawa. I ended up chatting up a girl at the bar while getting a drink, who knew that a fresh scratch on my head would be such a great conversation starter? I told her about my adventures for the day and we chatted a little bit, then we both went back to our friends. Later on while dancing with my friends I almost inadvertently knocked her out when I mistook her trying to slip her card into my back pocket for someone trying to pickpocket me.

And there you have an installment of Dickie's big Adventures. I highly recommend trying bungee jumping if you ever get the chance. If you however become a statistic by falling to your death, what the hell were you thinking listening to me??

Deep Thoughts

Here for your pleasure is another round of Deep Thoughts by Dickie. For those of you unfamiliar with this ongoing segment, it is basically just me listing random things I have seen or thought about lately. Remember that whether you like it or not, it is free. Without further adieu, let's begin...

1. In this new age of multitasking, it should not surprise me that a few weeks ago I saw a woman riding a bicycle on a busy street, talking on a cell phone (not handsfree) and smoking a cigarette simultaneously. I should not have been surprised, but I still was. That is a rather amazing feat. Making it more amazing still was that she looked like she may have driven the bicycle from the local trailer park. Not to be judgemental, but she looked like she was functioning intellectually on a low level. I consider myself a fairly intelligent and coordinated person, but I doubt I could pull that off. I like to think that since I am intelligent I know better than to even try that nonsense. It was definitely interesting to see though.

2. Do you ever wipe off the top of the can before drinking from it? I don't usually. I never really thought about it until now and that disturbs me. Why do we assume that top part of the can is sterile or at least suitably clean? We have usually have no idea where that can has been before it made its way to our hands. Some obese girl could have rubbed it in her armpit, some sweaty guy could have dripped sweat on it...makes me want to vomit a little. From now on I will make an effort to always wipe it off. Maybe I am just paranoid.

3. Yesterday at Subway I witnessed a bit of a ruckus during my lunch. As soon as I walked in the door I picked out this guy ordering and I automatically didn't like him. I hadn't even heard him speak and I already detested him. I could just tell he was one of those self-important douches. Then I heard him speak as he rambled off one of the 20+ subs he was ordering and it was all confirmed. My spider sense was correct. He was getting increasingly agitated that the middle eastern woman helping him with his ridiculous order could not keep up with his 5 instructions per second pace. He was snorting and sighing and making all sorts of frustration noises. At one point one of the managers mentioned that he could submit orders through the website and they will have them ready for you. Dickface then said in a very contrite manner that he went to the site and it did not list this location on the site. The manager then asked if it was the .ca site and not the .com site. Dickface spat out that he of course made sure it was and that he was not an idiot. I mentally disagreed wholeheartedly with him on that last point. This guy got so frustrated with this woman helping him that he raised his voice and asked for someone to help him that could speak English. Now that is just a really ignorant thing to say since she was doing her best and she spoke English quite well. I'm not an overly confrontational person, but I was legitimately tempted to pick a verbal fight with this clown. It took all of my restraint to not say to him "Her English is fine, she just might not be familiar with your particular ignorant prick dialect". If you can't find the location on the website, you can fax your order in by finding the number on the yellow pages site and they'll have it ready for you when you come in. Don't punish people because you're an unresourceful f*cktard.           

4. I've noticed a lot of commercials lately with doctors promoting some sort of medication, or dentists promoting some kind of toothpaste. This is all fine and good except when the doctor or dentist is an actor I have seen in show or movie at some point. Poor planning dummies. You just lost all credibility with me. I believed this was a real doctor until I recognized the guy from a random episode of Seinfeld or something. Get a real doctor or dentist that believes in your shit product.

5. I love it when obese people get extra cheese or mayo on their Whoppers. It just seems the right thing to do and the tasty way to do it.

Until next time, may fortune and fame french kiss you all against your will.

That's What She Said

Recently I had the strange experience of being forwarded the following story by a friend. The story lists 20 things a guy should forgive his girlfriend for. I found it rather disturbing to say the least. I will now post the 20 things along with my comments. The full article can be found here (http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-20-things-your-boyfriend-should-forgive-you-for/).

1. Inviting him over to, hint hint, hang out and then forcing him to sit through two hours of “Bachelor Pad.” - hmmm...only acceptable if you plan on rewarding us with sex or if you plan on going to a sporting event you have no interest in. Bonus points if you do both or combine the two somehow.

2. Being 15 minutes late to a movie because you had a sudden need to change outfits - Never acceptable, but can be somewhat forgiven with sex (especially if you do that thing you only normally do on our birthdays or special occasions). I HATE waiting for people, it shows a lack of respect. Chances are we don't care what you are wearing as long as it is not embarassing.

3. Calling him a selfish prick on one particularly PMS-y day - Well chances are that we are selfish pricks, at least at some point. Women can get certifiably insane at some points, so we'll likely be happy if that is the worst you call us.

4. Passing on attending his 15-year high school reunion because you’d rather not relive his teenage years with him - Well if you are hot you'd better come with us to the reunion (if we even decide to go). If you are not hot, keep your ugly ass home.

5. Saying “I’m fine” when you’re really not fine and are just being passive-aggressive - WE HATE THIS. I can't stress enough how much we hate this. If there is something wrong, TELL US. We're generally not as good at communicating as you are, so throw us a bone. We don't want to go through the list of possible wrong doings we've committed in our heads to see what the issue POSSIBLY could be. It's a long list. If you choose to ignore my reasoning, prepare to make it up to us with sex.

6. Borrowing his clothes without asking because menswear is in! - This is allowed only while you are still on the premises and can only be used for seductive purposes. You may request one T-shirt to remove from the premises to use as a sleeping garment. Under no circumstances is any article of clothing to be removed without the guy's express written consent. I feel very strongly about this.

7. Clogging up his shower drain with your long hair - This is generally acceptable to most guys, it is just part of dating a girl. Again you should have sex with us to make it ok.

8. Painting your nails in his presence and suffocating him with the fumes - Acceptable only if we are the ones painting your nails for you in a sexy manner (this counts as foreplay). Otherwise, keep that toxic shit away.

9. Needing to stay up late finishing the last Stieg Larsson book when he just wants to go to bed - Here's a little secret...after sex we like to sleep. With this logic in mind, have sex with us and then you can stay up all night if you want, we'll sleep through it.

10. Throwing away his nastiest pair of shoes that he loves for no reason - Do this under no circumstances. We like old shoes, they can be reminders of a game we played in them or whatnot. You are not just throwing away shoes, you are throwing away memories. If you throw out our old shoes we will throw out your new shoes to get even.

11. Calling him by your ex’s name. So long as it’s not during sex - Just remember that turnabout is fair play on this one. You know that ex of ours that you measure yourself against? There is really no reason for this to happen. This is precisely why smart people in relationships call each other "babe" and "you".

12. Using up all of his shaving cream to shave your straggly pube hairs - If it means that you can avoid any sort of crotch chaos or legs that could sand a 2x4, have at it. We pretty much hate shaving and you are giving us a license to grow scruff.

13. Replacing his perfectly good bar soap with jasmine-scented “body wash.” - This is too stupid to comment on, you should know better. Under no circumstances should we have to smell like Jasmine, unless your name happens to be "Jasmine".

14. Googling his ex-girlfriend to see what she looks like. And then maybe hunting down her Facebook too - You can google or Facebook anyone you damn well feel like, just be prepared to find something you might not like (we did not date ugly people before you came along). You also have no right to take it out on us should you find something that upsets you. And this by no means signifies we want to hear anything about your ex.  

15. “Accidentally” deleting some old-school World Series game he recorded on the Yankees Classic network so you could have room on the DVR for new episodes of “General Hospital” now that Brenda Barrett is back! - This is punishable by death. You should try to have sex with us to make us forget about it, but we cannot promise it will ease the pain. In short, do not delete anything off the PVR without first consulting.  

16. Innocently sitting down at his computer and scanning the subject lines of the messages sitting in his Gmail inbox. It’s not like you hacked into his email or anything. It was there - If you're like most women, we are lucky if you don't hack into our email accounts. If we leave it open it is perfectly OK for you to peruse the subject lines. Under no circumstances are you to click and open a message.

17. Making him watch that awesomely gay Miley Cyrus lipdub “Party in the USA Fire Island,” like, 20 times - No amount of sex in the world makes this OK. It just is not going to happen. One second thought, if you tell us to go on a guy's weekend in Vegas we might watch it once.

18. Complaining about your friend’s annoying behavior but then getting testy with him when he dares criticize her too - You're a woman, you will complain about things. Especially friends. Guys are the same way in the way that we make fun of our friends. It's allowed as long as we are the ones doing it, but if someone else does our loyalty kicks in and it is no longer OK. Besides, when you talk about your friends we will likely ignore you anyways and just try to nod on cue.

19. Replacing his white flour pasta with whole wheat - Chances are that if we have put up with the other shit on this list, whatever you do to our pasta is the least of our concerns.

20. Cheating on him with Ryan Gosling - Just remember that this allows us to have that threesome with Jessica Biel and Brooklyn Decker (we also get to videotape this to prove to our friends that it happened).

That is all for this time around folks and remember to always wear clean underwear.

The Roomie Chronicles Numero Dos

Welcome back my friends and buckle up for the second installment of the living arrangements of Dickie. The first installment has received rave reviews and people seem to be finding it funnier than I expected. As much as I would love to keep patting myself on the back, I have part 2 of a blog to get to...

During University I rented an apartment during the summer with one of my good buddies from high school (later nicknamed "the Cougar Tamer" for his love of the older women). It was basically a summer of unadulterated retardedness. We're lucky we never ended up in jail or seriously injuring an innocent bystander. We didn't have any furniture when he moved in but my girlfriend had a friend with two old couches she wanted to get rid of. Fortunately she lived about half a kilometer up a hill from us. So the Cougar Tamer and I decided to carry these couches down the hill. Just try to picture two guys walking down a steep hill, each literally carrying a couch literally on his head. When that got uncomfortable we tried pushing the couch fast and jumping onto it  jamaican-bobsled-style. Seemed like a good idea at the time but when we got the couches to our apartment, that particular activity had wore the wooden legs almost completely off. It's funny how friction can be both a good thing and a bad thing...We ended up with two couches sitting directly on the floor in our apartment, but they fit in quite well with our "yardsale" theme. I had a summer job that I hated with a passion and the Cougar Tamer never met a drink he didn't like so we ended up going for drinks a lot. Luckily I had a girlfriend at the time to keep me somewhat under control. I was the best wingman ever. When you are in a relationship, women can just tell that you don't reek of desperation and are drawn to you. That is one of the unfair rules of life. Write it down and put that little tidbit of knowledge in your pocket for a rainy day, it's tried and true. I helped the Cougar Tamer meet many a lady that summer. He was a smaller guy (5'8, 140lbs), but he was a strong bugger. I remember us walking two ladies home one night and we were DRUNK. He ended up with one of the girls on his shoulders to prove how strong he was. I remember thinking to myself there was no way it was going to end well since it was just a matter of time before he or she, or both, fell on his/her face on the pavement. He swayed a lot and even stumbled a little, but to his credit he never dropped her. Luckily we only lived together for 4 months otherwise I would have needed a liver transpant.  Duration: 4 drunken months.

I ended up being roommates this guy (nicknamed "Teeder") that I worked with at a sporting goods store. We didn't really know each other well before being roommates, but it turned out surprisingly well. We were really quite different people, but we had just enough common interests to make it work. We were both a bit geeky, but in totally different ways. I was a jock and he was very respected in his scuba diving association. We spent many a night trying to solve the mysteries that surround the female lifeform. I seemed to have more luck with the ladies, but he had a freakish talent for pulling a homerun out of nowhere when you least expected it. That is what made it interesting when we went out to a bar or club. One such night was the legendary 'Oh You Like It Don't You???' night. Good times. I remember another time when Teeder and the Cougar Tamer were both battling over the attention of one particular lady. It was amusing watching each of their strategies being deployed. Teeder eventually ended up making out with the girl one night and almost certainly would have gotten further if he was not epically cockblocked by her annoying friend. Sadly he never reached that milestone again with the girl. Teeder was just an all around great roommate. It helped that we were both so easy going that we never really let anything get on our nerves. I remember Karaoke being a weekly occurrence. I remember him asking me one time what my secret to getting women interested was and I told him "Well this is the way I see it Teeder, if we both played a game of word association with the word "diving", you would answer 'Scuba' and I would answer 'Muff'. What do you think appeals more to women?". He had to agree with my reasoning. He had the last laugh though when he moved to Thailand and worked as a scuba diver for a tourism company. Duration: 2 years.

And that wraps up installment number 2 of the Roommate Chronicles. Tune in next time for the final installment where I cover my Toronto roommates. Remember that God loves ugly people too.

The Roomie Chronicles

I would assume that most of us have had the pleasure/frustration of living with someone else. It can be the best of times, it can be the worst of times. Things can happen that bond you forever and, conversely, make you sworn enemies until the end of time. I have had a decent number of flatmates through the years with both positive and negative outcomes, as well as just plain bizarre experiences. Here for your reading pleasure I will recount them for you...

Roomie 1 (then 2 and 3 as well) - Straight out of high school I moved in with a good female friend. We lived in the basement apartment with two very OLD people living upstairs. They tried to impart more rules on us than what we had when we lived at home. We lasted there 2 months before we moved in with two other female friends. Funny how at the time I didn't see how this situation could possibly go wrong... It didn't just go wrong, it went epically wrong and friendships were severed. What happened? One of the roommates decided it was a good idea to make up a totally untrue story about me and I did not take kindly to it once I heard about it. To this day I don't know where the story came from or the motive behind it. All in all, a very unpleasant experience. Duration: 2 months and then 6 months.

Roomie 4 and 5 - I lived with a girl I was dating as well as a mutual female friend. Good times were had, bad times were had but overall not a traumatizing experience. After the previous roommate situation, anything was a step up. Tons of parties. Duration: 8 months.

Roomie 6 - This was a girl I was head over heels in love with. We moved in together with the idea of really going the distance. We even got a puppy. We lived together for 2.5 years and unfortunately for me I didn't know ahead of time she was a certifiable lunatic. I described one of her antics (kicking me out of bed after having a bad dream about me) in detail in a previous blog. Things basically fell apart in the last year together when she told all her friends about how I was going to propose at Christmas, only she neglected to tell me this was going to happen. When Christmas came around and she did not receive her ring, things quickly unravelled. We actually split up a few months later. Duration: 2.5 years.

Roomie 7+ - In a hurry to get away from the ex I answered an ad in the university newspaper to sublet a room for the summer. I was desperate and I basically took the first place I went to look at. It was only for 4 months so I figured I could tolerate anything for that amount of time. I lived in the bottom part of a house with at least 4, but as many as 7, Chinese guys. I was like a prisoner of war living there. Imagine living in a place where you heard conversations all day and most of the night, but you had no idea what the hell they were saying. Try it some day by leaving the french channel on (and french is a much "less angry" sounding language) and you will have some iota what I went through for those 4 months. There was a HUGE bag of rice in the kitchen and I got to write my rent cheque out to "Kok Wai Wong" (say that to yourself) every month, so it did have its amusing moments.  Duration: 4 months.

Roomie 8 - I continued my tradition of making questionable living arrangements by answering an ad in the local newspaper looking for a roommate. We set up a time to meet at the apartment and I met my future roommate and her best friend. We got along really well (I got along exceptionally well with the best friend) and we agreed that I should move in. After I moved in things got a little bit weird. She gave me 1/4 of a cupboard and less than 1/5 of the fridge for my stuff (not a big deal but just weird). She was less than cordial, always seemed to be in a weird mood. The strangest part was that she went out of her way to be exceptionally friendly and nice to me when her best friend was over. It was like living with Jekyll and Hyde. I remember one particular night when I was watching TV on the couch, she brought home a guy at like 8pm. We didn't have any rules about having people over, I couldn't have cared less. The thing I had an issue with was when they sat on the couch beside me, then proceeded to make out for about 30 minutes. The guy actually hit me with his foot at one point. The best part was that her bedroom was about 10 feet away from the couch, but in her mind it was a better idea to stay there and dry hump the f*ck out of some random guy on the couch inches away from me. One day she came home and started to tell me a story of how her friend was looking for a place to live, I stopped her and offered "She can move in here!" and with that I put an end to a bizarre living arrangement. I ran into her months later at a pub and she came up to me all smiles, hugged me heartily and proclaimed me "the best roommate ever". I'm pretty sure she had multiple personality disorder. Duration: 3 months.

Roomie 9 - I jumped quickly into a place just up the road from Jekyll and Hyde. It was basically just renting a room, it was a very limited time solution. This brought "Shallow Hal" (appropriately named by my buddy Awall) into my life. Shallow Hal rented a room down the hall from me. To say he was a Sketchbag was insulting the word "Sketchbag" . He was in his 40's, usually wore tank tops and a sleeveless jean jacket and his face was the texture of worn leather. He just had this look in his eyes that screamed "I plan to sell all your stuff while you are at work". He kept trying to chat me up when we'd run into each other and I would always end up talking to him for a few minutes. One night I came home with a 6 pack of beer after a stupid day at work and I left the beer in the fridge to chill. I was literally counting down the minutes until I cracked open that first cold beer. I managed to hold off for an hour and then I went to the fridge to retrieve my cold beer only to discover it was gone. There are a few no-no's for people in my life, stealing my beer tops the list. The funny thing is that I am usually generous and I would have given him one if he had asked. It took me about 10 minutes to stop seething enough to knock on his door without fear of grabbing him by the throat. He took a solid two minutes to open his door and I asked him if he had any idea what happened to my beer. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly what had happened to my beer, but he denied it all the while refusing to look me in the eye. I stormed away muttering another word for someone that performs coitus with a female parental unit. About 30 minutes of plotting his demise in my room, I heard his door open and then I heard the fridge door open and close. I walked out to the kitchen and looked in the fridge to discover my beer box with a lone beer left in it. Knowing that I had shamed Shallow Hal into not drinking ALL 6 of my beer was as comforting as you may think. Needless to say I did not stay living there very long. Years later I saw Shallow Hal pushing a shopping cart down the street and I had a great sense of karmic balance. Duration: One month. 

There are many more roomie stories, but I will end this blog here before it turns into a novel. I will continue the Roomie Chronicles in another entry. Stay tuned and remember that if you mess with my beer, you will end up homeless. I'm tight with the Universe like that.

9-1-1

Most of my blog entries revolve around recounting alcohol induced bouts of debauchery and amusing exploits. If it isn't broke I am not going to fix it. You never mess with a winning formula, just ask Coca-Cola about the experiment known as New Coke. Here for your reading enjoyment is another tale from the vault.

Back in second year of University I lived with a girlfriend. My best friend from high school would come visit from time to time and we would party it up. We'd hit the bars and generally try to get into various forms of trouble. We seldom failed in our attempts. My friend was a bit on the shorter side and a bit chubby so he ended up with the name "Chubba". To say that he embraced it wholeheartedly is an understatement. It was a regular occurrence to see the transformation from normal person into Chubba unfold as the drinks went down. You could tell things had taken a turn to the bad side once he inevitably yelled "Chubba RULES!" and proceeded to try to knock something over. It was not exactly socially acceptable behaviour but that is what friends do, they accept each other despite the obvious temporary insanity and other faults. I spent a great percentage of the time I hung out with him trying to keep him out of fights and from causing too much destruction. He was like a mini tazmanian drinking devil.   

My girlfriend thought it would be a great idea to set up Chubba with her crazy lab partner named Pam (affectionately nicknamed Wham Bam by me for her obviously low standards). On paper the combination looked perfect, crazy drunken fool and crazy skanky chick, how could it go wrong? With a plethora of alcohol, that's how. We all met up at my place and to my surprise Chubba and Wham Bam hit it off fairly well. Any shyness was quickly dissolved as the drinks flowed from a seemingly endless supply of alcohol. After a good bit of pre-drinking we embarked to the local dance club. We proceeded to drink more and dance the night away. Chubba almost started a bit of a scene with what could be best described as potential members of the Italian mafia. Apparently one of them hit on Wham Bam and Chubba took exception to that. We somehow managed to make it out of the club without being shot or kneecapped, thank goodness for small miracles. We piled back into a cab and went back to my place.

At this point we were all a mess. Chubba and Wham Bam were drunkenly pawing at each other and I just wanted to stop the room from spinning. I went into the bathroom to splash water on my face and I heard a scream. I stumbled out of the bathroom to witness a scene that resembled something out of a horror movie. The carpet in the living room was drenched in blood and there were bloody footprints leading to the other bathroom. For some reason at this point in my intoxicated mind the most likely scenario was that we got burgled and it went wrong. I ran into my bedroom and grabbed my miniature baseball bat, then proceeded to slowly tiptoe/stumble in the direction of the bloody footprints. I finally reached the bathroom door (closed with the bloody trail leading in). I flung the door open and yelled, ready to swing the bat at the intruder. To my surprise the door hit Chubba as he was doubled over throwing up in the toilet. My girlfriend came to the door and told me to call an ambulance for Wham Bam. They told me that she had stepped on a wine glass and it cut her foot. 

What happened next is precisely why a drunken university student should never be trusted to do anything intelligent. I picked up the phone and called 9-1-1. This is how I remember the conversation going:

911:"Please state the nature of your emergency"

Me: "I got the number right!"

911:"Sir? What is your emergency"

Me: "Well I thought we had a burglar with all that blood everywhere"

911: "What blood sir? What blood??"

Me: "Blood EVERYWHERE, soaked through the carpet..."

911: "What happened sir, whose blood is it?"

Me: "It's EVERYWHERE"

911: "What is your name and address sir?"

Me: "Oh forget it, we'll just take a cab I guess..."

My girlfriend took the phone out of my hands and asked me who I was talking to? I told her it was a nice woman from 911. She assumed I was just kidding and she called a cab. It turned out Wham Bam just had a piece of glass in her foot and most of the bleeding had stopped at this point. We still needed to go to the hospital for stitches. About 10 minutes later the cab came and we all got into it. After informing the cabbie to take us to the hospital we were suddenly surrounded by cop cars, lights flashing and sirens whailing. It was at this point that I informed everyone that I had indeed called 911 and told the operator about all the blood on the floor. The cops made us get out of the cab and my girlfriend calmly explained to them that they told me to call an ambulance and that was what I tried to do, but unfortunately did a poor job describing the situation. Luckily after asking to see the apartment and seeing all the blood on the living room carpet the cops believed the story. We finally made it to the hospital and waited at least 3 hours for Wham Bam to get stitches, during which time Chubba threw up in the waiting room and a guy with a rather spectacular ponytail did the mop up duties. All in all a fairly decent eventful night.

Until next time, honour your contracts, be pleasant to strangers and never prematurely assume you've been burgled.

Deep Thoughts...

Here it is again for your reading enjoyment, a collection of my random thoughts in no particular order! Enjoy.

1. What the hell is wrong with Mel Gibson? They were playing clips of him ranting at his wife today on The Edge and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Say it isn't so Braveheart. You've obviously lost your damn mind. It reminds me of when my mom gave our piano to a religious guy in our town. He later turned out to be a huge pedophile and served 5 years in jail for it. Good thing our piano went to someone that could use it. Well actually that doesn't have anything in common with Mel Gibson but I remember it now all of a sudden. First Kramer is a bigtime racist and now Mad Max is a racist lunatic? He's about one more rant away from being in a mental institution in Australia. Forget Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, it's Mad Max: Beyond Anger Management.

2. When is the Straight Pride Parade? I keep searching the Toronto Festival website but I can't find it.

3. I tried Absinthe the other night and I was a little disappointed in it. I've always wanted to try it and I pictured it conjuring up hallucinations, a Mel Gibson like rant, or possibly cutting off an ear and none of that happened. Perhaps I had it hyped up too much. And why the hell does it taste like Sambuca??

4. Hair is overrated. I keep thinking about all the extra free time I have from not having to style my hair. I've literally saved days worth of time. Not to mention all the money I save on haircuts and hair products. Poor suckers with hair, I almost pity you. Also being hairless lets me reach my full potential for speed. Special sidenote: I AM thinking about growing out my bangs. I have weighed the pros of style and uniqeness versus the cons of being less streamlined and possible jealousy, I am still undecided.

5. At what point should it be socially acceptable to punch someone in the face while waiting in a food lineup? I vote for "after he bumps into you 4 times when there is way more than enough room for him to move around". I am open to suggestions though.

Until next time remember that a canister of compressed air is not a toy...

Is that a lobster in your pants or are you just happy to see me?

I can't believe it has been over a full month since my last blog entry, time flies when you ignore your blog duties. Rest assured I have not been wasting this past month laying comatose on my couch watching infomercials, although I wouldn't mind getting a ShamWOW or a SlapChop (give me one of those Grate-y buggers too)...I have been traveling a lot this last little bit and I have created an internet talk radio show with The Joe Long Show (you can listen to the right). The travelling consisted of a last minute trip to Cuba and one quickly planned trip back home to the East Coast. I'm back in the TDot but my head is spinning from all the miles I have put on. Even though I have been far from my loyal readers, you have never been far from my thoughts...and after driving solo 14 hours each way, there were many thoughts.

So what was it like to be home? Well it is always a culture shock. People assume it was so hard for me to move to Toronto from Fredericton because of the culture shock, but I truly find it more difficult going from here back home. That is likely because when I go home I spend the majority of my time in the small town I grew up in. I'm talking about a town with a population of 1700 people that most of the time seems like less than 100 people. Priorities are just a little different there. Based on my observations it is normal to spend a good portion of the day making sure you can identify every single person in the town. This baffles me since 90% of the people I see on any given day are strangers and I really don't care who they are. I like being relatively anonymous and not having anyone care what I'm doing. Even though I moved away from my hometown when I was 18 for school, my mom assumes I know every single person there still. I didn't know half the people there when I lived there nor did I care. Anyways, constantly needing to know who people are is not part of my makeup.

One other thing I found out about my hometown is that there is a huge increase in the amount of shoplifting happening. My brother told me a bunch of stories about people stealing tons of stuff from the local grocery store. That is bad enough on its own but when he told me what people are actually stealing, that took the level of ridiculousness up a few notches. Apparently the store would cook lobsters then wrap and sell them individually. One guy came along and cleaned out the entire display (about 6 lobsters), except one. How did the guy steal them you ask? Oh yeah he put them down his pants. So this guy has cellophane wrapped lobsters stuffed down his pants and he walks out of the store. How's that for ballsy? The owner of the grocery store was so sure of who stole the lobster that he took the one remaining lobster, drove to the thief's house, knocked on his door and told him he might as well have that one since he had the rest of them. 

Ridiculous. As ridiculous as it is, the next one is ever stranger. A different guy went into the same grocery store and decided to steal a package of boneless, skinless chicken breast by taking it out of the package and stuffing it down his pants. Oh yeah and that guy was my old high school English teacher. It's bad enough if you steal it while it is still in the package, but taking it out of the package and putting raw chicken down your pants? Let's hope that is not the Colonel's secret for 11 herbs and spices, or the way Popeye's marinates it's chicken for 12 hours. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. How is that for a Lysol commercial idea?

I will make an attempt to increase the blog entries going forth and remember it is not a good idea to light cop cars on fire and smash windows. It may be fun, but it is never a good idea.

Does This Mean We Can't be Friends?

There are many crazy, ridiculous, scary and exciting things happening in the world right now. If you came here looking for my opinion and to have me discuss them in detail, what the heck is wrong with you? That's what CNN.com is for fool. Don't you know by now I am an incessant Bloggerbator (one who blogs about him/herself)?? If you have come here looking for another story from the life of Dickie, you are in the right place my friends. Without further adieu...

Back in NB I had a lot of friends that loved going out to clubs. Some of these friends were people I only ever saw at the clubs. One of my friends in particular (Allen) was a guy I used to play baseball with back in the day. He was notorious for always wearing a shirt that was way too tight. He also had very questionable taste in women, but otherwise he was a great guy. One of the crazy girls I dated was a girl I actually met through him. Allen was a good guy to know, he knew a ton of people.

One particular night we were out at a dance club and we were just hanging out talking and watching the girls. A very attractive girl walked by (I recognized her from working in a swimwear store that I had walked by recently before this. I must admit I pictured what she would look like in a bikini). To my surprise Allen grabbed her as she was walking by and started talking to her. I was thinking to myself "Damn this guy knows every girl in this city", and I was a bit disappointed. They stopped talking and she walked away. He turned to me and asked "What do you think of her?". I replied "How do you know her and how long did it last?". We both laughed since he was a bit of a manwhore and this question was usually very relevant when talking about women he knew. He proceeded to tell me her name was Melissa and that he had never dated her or anything of the sort. In fact he didn't remember how they had come to know each other. I felt a slight glimmer of hope that she was indeed untainted by his man stink. 

A little while later Melissa came back around and was talking to Allen. I just sipped my beer and looked around for people I knew. She left again and Allen turned to me and said "What do you think of Melissa?". I looked at him with a strange look wondering why he was asking me the same question again. I answered "I've seen her before and I definitely noticed her. She's hard to miss". He then informed me that she thought I was cute, asked if I was single and told him that she wanted us to dance later on. Upon hearing this news I looked at him and said "Shut the f*** up, I'm not that gullible you assclown". He assured me that was exactly what she said to him and that was her sole reason for stopping to talk to him. I was still not totally believing it all, but I couldn't help my mind racing from this wonderful turn of events.

Over the next little while Melissa and I exchanged glances and smiles at each other, as well as a few brief but interesting conversations. Eventually a bunch of us took to the dance floor and were dancing in a circle. Melissa was drinking a Smirnoff Ice (right when they first came out in NB and became all the rage) while dancing and talking beside me on the dance floor. There was definitely tangible chemistry there. When she saw me looking at the bottle strangely and wondering what it was, she informed me it was a vodka cooler and to my surprise offered me a drink. I almost looked around to see if I was on candid camera. This hot girl was not only asking my friend about me, but was offering me the chance to try her drink. Something had to be wrong here, I was either dreaming or someone was pranking me, there could be no other explanation. Little did I know how drastically things would change in the next 10 seconds...I took the bottle from her and in retarded fashion took a bigger sip of the cooler than I should have. The liquor went directly to the back of my throat and I choked. I then proceeded to turn in Melissa's direction and reflexively spit it out all over her face and chest. She just stared at me in total and utter disbelief at what was taking place, even as the liquor dripped off her chin and soaked into her shirt. I then proceeded to cough and gag trying to clear my throat. By the time I looked at her again the look of disbelief was replaced by a look of anger and death wishes. As she shot me one last look of scorn and started to walk away I yelled after her the only thing I could think at the time, "I'm so sorry! Does this mean we can't be friends??". 

I only saw that girl one more time after the incident, likely 4 months or so later. She was with a guy and they looked so happy. I couldn't help but think that could have been me if I had taken a normal sip. Let this be a lesson to you, alcohol can ruin relationships...sometimes before they even start.

A Little Dab Will Do You

A while back when I was living in NB (the dark times as I call them), I didn't have a car. Occasionally I would walk home from work. It was about a 2km walk (mostly downhill) and if the weather was decent I would walk it. I really hated my job at the time and the walk would give me about 20 minutes to clear my head.

One particular work night I decided to walk home and I went into the washroom and washed my face (take note of this, this information will be important later). On this night I decided to stop for a bottle of Gatorade at the Convenience Store/Dairy Bar on the way home. I walked in and went to the cooler at the back of the store, got my gatorade and then walked up to the cash. This rather large, rugby-player looking guy walked in and he looked a little jittery. He grabbed a pack of gum and got into line behind me. I paid for my Gatorade and walked outside, ready to finish the last 5 minutes of the walk home. Literally 5 seconds later, this guy came out the door behind me. At the time I was a bit confused as to how he made it outside so fast. Did he have the perfect change for his gum? Did he decide to put it back and not get anything? I'll never know.

My spider sense was tingling for good reason, things got a little strange from there. When I turned to see that he had come out the door behind me he was about three feet behind me which startled me a bit. A stranger (or even my friends for that matter) should not invade my personal space like that. The fact that he was a bit twitchy did not settle my mind very much. I had the weirdest feeling he was going to throw a punch at me, my adrenaline kicked in and I was ready for things to escalate in a bad way. He looked at me with a blank expression and said "Hey man, what are you doing now, are you meeting up with a girl or something?". It was such an odd question from someone I didn't know, I was a bit stunned by it. I muttered "No" and he said "You have something on your face". Instinctively I wiped my face with my hand. It was at this point that I remembered that I had indeed washed my face before I left work that night so the chances of having missed something were slim. I replied "No, I think I'm good". Things were weird up to this point, but what happened next was blatantly over the top. To my surprise and horror, this guy licked his finger and started moving it towards my face (this is a move I see a lot of mothers do to their children). He got about half way towards his target when I finally clued in what was going to happen.  I avoided that finger like it was dripping with acid and I was in the damn Matrix dodging a bullet. I managed to mutter "uuuhhh noooo..." and promptly turned and walked quickly home. I kept turning around make sure the weirdo was not following me home and luckily he was not.  

Surprise, surprise when I actually got home and looked in the mirror I had nothing on my face at all. So basically I stopped for a Gatorade and some fool tried to molest my face. Apparently I have the timing and ability to have normal situations turn life alteringly ridiculous at any time. It's just part of my charm.

Until next time loyal readers, may your arms be long enough to scratch whatever itches...

The Nothing Fight

Last year about this time I went to see Dane Cook at the Air Canada Center and it was a great show. Today I was thinking about some of my favourite Dane Cook bits and I remembered about the "Nothing Fight".

If you are not familiar with the "Nothing Fight", the term is basically a description of how a seemingly ridiculous reason for a fight turns into a clusterf**k fight of epic proportions. The one DC describes involves a boyfriend and girlfriend shopping together in the grocery store and the guy asks the girl if they need jelly. The girl replies that she doesn't know and that she doesn't even like jelly. This spirals out of control as they continue to antagonize each other over whether or not there is jelly at home, much to Cook's delight.

I started thinking about my own unique brushes with the Nothing Fight and how this phenomenon has changed my life. I've had a long term relationship end from a Nothing Fight. It starts out as a simple debate or disagreement, takes an epic wrong turn and BOOM you're left wondering how the hell we got here? My theory is that there is an underlying tension there and this slight disagreement is an opportunity for it to be addressed. I'm not a relationship doctor, I just play one on TV.

My last long term relationship ended after a Nothing Fight spiraled out of control and ended up smack dab in the middle of F**kville. It actually started from trying to decide what we wanted to order for take-out food. Yes take-out food. It was basically just a decision between Chinese food and pizza. I suggested pizza and let's just say she REALLY didn't want pizza. We were done a few days later.

One other time I remember getting into an argument with my live-in girlfriend because I brought her home a coffee with two sugars in it and she only wanted one sugar. I honestly can't remember if I ordered it with two sugars or they just gave me two sugars in it by mistake. I made a joke about how I figured she could use a little extra sweetness and she somehow turned it into me not knowing her at all. That turned into a fight that lasted over 2 days.

Beware this strange occurrence my friends, it can strike when you least expect it and the results can be devastating. Keep your wits about you and manage arguments before they explode into full blown fights. Be safe out there...

What doesn't kill you...might just mess you up later

Welcome back to the Universe my friends. Please direct your attention to the right hand side of the screen where I will conduct small polls at my leisure. Feel free to vote and have your opinion ignored and ridiculed. Give me a little direction with this thing before I roll it off the tracks. On to today's entry and remember to keep your hands on the inside of the ride at all times. Hopefully you are adequately edutained...

We live in the world of low-fat, reduced-calorie, sugar-free products. There's an abundance of cool sounding products (ie. Coke Zero, Pepsi Max, Reduced Fat Oreos, etc), but do you ever wonder how they make this stuff? Of course you don't. You're just happy that you get "Real coke taste with 0 calories!" and you think about all the weight you're going to lose. Well guess what Twiggy, those artificial sweeteners come with a price as well. That price is DEATH, DEATH and more DEATH...well perhaps I exaggerate, but it is not good for you. I am looking out for you, my loyal readers, for I am nothing without you. I'm everything I am because you loved me (Did I just quote a Celine Dion song? Yes I did! She's now singing it in your head, no need to thank me and please resist the urge the set yourself on fire. I think we're about 2 weeks away from the Taliban claiming responsibility for her singing, but I digress...).  

Here comes the education part. Put on your thinking caps and let's get down to business. If you drink diet pop or chew sugarless gum chances are you are ingesting Aspartame. It's no coincidence that the site I linked to for Aspartame is referring to it as "sweet poison". Aspartame poisoning can go so far as to give you the symptoms of some fatal diseases. You can totally rationalize the new phobia you've developed (one of the listed possible side effects) when you think about the 100 calories you save in that Diet Coke. I'd rather drink the extra calories in a Coke than to worry irrationally about that can of Diet Coke attacking my face. Recently my mom was telling me about how she as always tired, always had a headache, and never had much energy. I sarcastically asked if she thought it was possibly due to the 2 liters of Diet Coke and the pot of coffee (sweetened with sugar Twin) she drank every day? She cut out the Diet Coke and noticed a big difference as the symptoms subsided within a few weeks. Perhaps she just lied to me to shut me up, maybe I'll never know.

Sucralose is another artificial sweetener that is hazardous to your health. Sucralose is actually a Chlorine based sugar (also referred to as a Chlorocarbon) that is 600 times sweeter than sugar. To put that in perspective, DDT (a chemical previously sprayed many years ago to kill insects, not the wrestling move) is also a Chlorocarbon. It was actually discovered by mistake. Scientists were doing experiments with Chloride based chemicals and one of them accidentally tasted it. Luckily it didn't kill him on the spot and ended up just being very sweet. Mmmmm sign me up for some of them delicious Chlorocarbons.So what if it gives me a third nipple and I bleed from my ears and other body cavities, it's sugar free beeyotch! The other day, while in the grocery store, I saw a bag of Doritos that were sweetened with Sucralose. Say it ain't so Doritos...why are you skimping on the calories? Are the people that eat Doritos looking for the sugar free alternative? Have you EVER wondered how much sugar was in a Dorito?

Hopefully you heed my warning and stop drinking these poisons or at least consume in moderation. If you think water is the answer, you need to be careful there as well. BPA is a hazard to watch out for and it's most commonly found in water bottles. Simply put, BPA is not good for you and you should try to avoid it if you can. 

Lecture time is over kids, venture out into this world with your new knowledge and fair thee well. If ever in doubt, drink beer (it comes in a glass, recyclable container, is all-natural and keeps your blood thin). If still in doubt, drink many beer and repeat until all doubt disappears. Always remember that Dickie loves you all.

The Numbers Game

I recently watched the movie "She's Out of My League" and it got me thinking about the expectations of dating. I found the movie surprisingly entertaining, there were a couple of genuine laugh-out-loud moments. The movie made me think of the mechanics in the dating world and how matches are made.

Theoretically we are all given a certain number which can vary depending on who is looking at us and what they value in looks (recently I made the mistake of answering the question "What would you rate me??" while on a date - EPIC FAIL, but that is another blog). The theory is that you can usually only date someone that is within 2 points of yourself. Say you picture yourself a solid "7", that means you should be able to reasonably date someone that is either up to a "9" or down to a "5". Although we never would admit it, none of us want to date down. We all want to overachieve. Nobody wants to be the 7 dating the 5 because he/she has a great personality. Conversely, some people can't handle dating above the threshold because they become insecure and worry about the other person wanting to trade up. It really is like walking a tight rope over a chasm of razorblades at times. I would also argue that if you are above a 5 you don't want to date below a 5. I always say "Awwww..." when I see two really ugly people together, they know what they're doing. They don't have to worry about being cheated on and all that nonsense, they're just happy to be getting some :).

Speaking from experience I have been on both ends of the dating stick. I've dated a "10" and I've also dated a step up from a swamp creature. Personally I prefer the 10. It is more tolerable for me to see people openly wonder what the hell my girlfriend is thinking than it is for people to openly wonder what the hell I am thinking. But that's just me. Ideally nobody looks at us wondering what the hell my date and I thinking because we're that couple that just looks like we should be together. We've both maxed out.

The barebones numbers get way more complicated when you factor in personality and other traits. If you have the IQ of a piece of stale bread, subtract at least 2 points. If you're funny, add up to 2 points. If you're athletic or can play an instrument, add at least 1 point. That is why you see 6's with 10's. If you're not making your girl stare lovingly at your soap opera good looks, you better be making her laugh. Explaining the theory of relativity or the Fibonacci sequence to her likely will not have the same effect.

The point of all this is that for the optimum chance of success, date within your range (+ or - 2). If you're one of the people currently dating out of your league then by all means act like you belong there and have some confidence about it.

Please tip your server on your way out and come again.

Little Man Syndrome

This blog comes to you from the throes of sickness my friends. Please brace yourself as this one may rumble off the tracks at any time. Conversely, I have written some of my best stuff on autopilot so who really knows? Don't say I didn't warn you...

Being that I have been relatively tall for most of my life (I am currently 6'5, subject to change without notice), I have seen my fair share of the infamous "Little Man Syndrome (LMS)", the adoption of an irritating attitude to compensate for a lack of height. I tend to bring it out of people more than most. I can see it in their eyes when they look at me. Sometimes it is rather unpleasant depending on the mood I am in and how tolerant I am. I will share the following tales of encountering LMS in my adventures and how it can go from borderline annoying to downright ugly.

When I first moved to the city I was lucky enough to find a roommate I knew living here already from back East.We had met each other during a bachelor party weekend in Boston for a mutual friend. We got along well and luckily enough he was looking for a roommate when I moved here. He was a slight framed guy about 5'8" tall. He had the mentality that he had to outdrink everyone to show what a true East Coaster he was. The fact that I was quite a bit taller than him made him even more determined to outdrink me. We moved into an apartment in High Park with a pub 300 feet away. Every time we went for a beer I noticed that he would either try to drink more than me or he would drink faster than me. I could see the look in his eyes, the competitive nature that having a friendly drink with a roommate was somehow Game 7 of the NHL Playoffs for him. Most times I would just let him win his imaginary drinking battles and let him have whatever glory he got from it. Occasionally I would grow tired of his perceived battle and I would feel the need to put him in his place. One time in particular we were watching a movie (with a lady friend of mine) and he started trash talking me (never a good idea) about how much more he could drink than me even though he is only half my size. So in the middle of his rambling about how much more he could drink I threw down the gauntlet by saying two simple words, "Prove it". I will generally let people have their little moral victories with me, but if they taunt me it's ON. I repeat "IT'S ON". We eventually agreed that the drink-off would involve a funnel and beer. The little bugger said he would only use his own beer (measly 220ml bottles) and I would use my cans (355ml) and we would go one for one until someone quit or passed out. The beauty of the funnel is that it allows you to down a beer in about 2 seconds. As you can likely figure out, this quickly leads to intoxication. We went beer for beer. At beer #5 I could tell he was in trouble, but he willed himself to keep going. After #7 he stood up, lost his balance, and nearly fell through our glass coffee table. By contrast, after beer #7 I had to pee for the first time. Needless to say, I won the drink-off and he shut his trap for the most part after that. A little man who should have checked himself before he wrecked himself.

In the fall I was out on a pub patio having a drink with a date. There was a table behind us where this obviously drunk idiot was arguing with a girl sitting with him. She was telling him to stop drinking and that he had drank too much already. Of course he thought he knew best and wanted to drink more. To say that they looked rough was an understatement. If you could tell how someone smelled just by looking at them I would have guessed he smelled like a dumpster fire. He was about 5'8 with a scraggly beard and more than a few missing teeth. He kept saying things overly loud and we couldn't help but overhear what a complete idiot he was. Eventually he started eavesdropping on our conversation and making comments about it. Then everytime we laughed he thought we were laughing at him (which we weren't) and he would look right at me and say something like "Come grab on then BOY" or "I'll pound your face in", etc. This went on for at least 45 minutes. Then he started making innappropriate comments to my date. Eventually after one of those comments I looked at him and told him flat out that neither were we talking about him nor did we plan to. He made a few ridiculous comments back but I wasn't listening. Then he got up and walked by us, making sure that he hit me purposely on the shoulder on the way by. Normally I don't have a fuse or a temper at all, but in this particular instance I was borderline enraged with this guy. He pushed all the wrong buttons. I heard him making his way back to the table and this time I stood up and moved my chair out of the way. As he walked by me with his head at my chest level he took special care not to bump me this time. He wouldn't even make eye contact. It seemed that me being 10 inches taller than him took the wind out of his sails. This type of thing seems to happen more frequently than it should and it never ceases to make my blood boil.

This year for New Year's I went to my friend's condo party. She rented out the party room and had roughly 30 people there for food, music and drinks. Everyone was having a few drinks and having a great time and then a particular couple showed up. I met and got along really well with the female of the couple. Within 10 minutes she was mixing me drinks and adding me to Facebook. The boyfriend, conversely, I wanted to pummel into the ground within 20 minutes of meeting. This 5'7" piece of work sought me out of the crowd, came up to me and introduced himself "Hi I am Dan, I'm an investment banker." and extended his hand in a handshake gesture. I shook his hand and told him my name was Mike. He asked me where I worked and I told him the name of the company. He said "Oh my company worked with them and they were a bunch of a$$holes". He then proceeded to ask me what was up with my shaved head. I told him I had been shaving it for 8 years and he told me that if he had to shave his head he would rather kill himself. So within 5 minutes of meeting this little critter, he has insulted the company I work for and my hairstyle. That's not the best way to get on my good side. At this point I politely excused myself and went over to talk to a friend. He is a tall guy as well and he said Dan the Little Man had struck up a conversation with him and insulted him as well. We kept talking and all the while Dan is slinking through the crowd of people, hitting on women as he goes. Meanwhile his girlfriend is at the bar mixing drinks for people. This guy is a little ball of puke. The way that he walks around like he owns the place is annoying. I know that if I have another talk with this guy, I will not be as friendly. I generally avoid him at all costs, trying to avoid any kind of a potential confrontation at my friend's party. A few drinks later I was mingling with some of the guests and I felt someone sidle up beside me and immediately I cringed. Sure enough Dan-O was beside me and he tried to take over the conversation even though he had no idea what it was about. This time around he felt the need to point out all of the attractive women at the party and which ones seemed to be into him. Disgust is nowhere near a strong enough word for what I felt towards this guy. I somehow managed to excuse myself again and I went over to the opposite side of the room, away from the party and sat in front of the fireplace to calm down. Serenity now, serenity now...I had had more than enough of this clown. Less than 5 minutes later I heard someone sit down on the other chair by the fire and just the sound of his voice made me almost rip the arm off the chair I was sitting in. This guy basically stalked me around this party and I couldn't get rid of him. I couldn't imagine why he kept seeking me out, if he had an issue with his height why keep seeking out the tallest guy at the party? As he was babbling on about himself and throwing out backhanded compliments, my tall friend came over to me and told me he needed to talk to me right away. We walked over to the bar and he told me he felt like he needed to get me out of there based on the look of pure hatred I had on my face towards this guy. He thought I was in danger of hitting him. I don't even remember having that look on my face, but apparently my body language was telling a different story. Later the party moved up to my friend's condo. I didn't see Dan make the transition upstairs with the rest of us so I hoped that was the last I would see of this guy. WRONG. He decided it was a good idea to continuously walk by me and say stuff like "You might be bigger than me but I'll knock you out!" or "I'll cut you down to size". I didn't know whether he meant it or just thought he was being funny. Either way it got old really quick. It got to the point where he would walk by and say something and my hand would involuntarily go into a fist. He disappeared for a while and I was talking to one of my friend's friends and we were laughing. I'm not sure where Dan came from but he somehow managed to pop up in between us and he asked me why were were talking about him. I told him we were not, he said he heard us talking about him. Finally I said "Honestly Dan, you're standing here right in between us and we still don't want to waste our time talking about you". He replied "I think we might need to step outside" and I said "If you feel lucky just grab on, I'll throw you through the f*cking window". Apparently he got the hint I had had enough of his shenanigans and he walked away. He did make sure to shake my hand when he left though. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when he was gone. I don't know why he felt the need to talk to me so much...maybe the height, maybe the fact that his girlfriend kept making special drinks for me, maybe both, maybe he is just not comfortable in his own skin. Hopefully I never find out because if I ever see him again it will be too soon. Good riddance little man.

If you ever read a story in the paper about me throwing someone out the f*cking window, rest assured I was provoked first. I do my best to control my temper but you just never know when I'll go postal on a dwarf. I'm sure I can keep writing my blog from jail.

Keep fit and have fun my friends, until next time...