THEY USED TO MAKE THAT WITH CHEESE!

09/27 Y-oiks! A full month since I've even touched this thing... where has the time gone? Well, that's largely immaterial, since it has gone, but nonetheless, I'd still like some accountability in this system here. Oh, wait.  Accountability is for losers.  Like Ben Johnson.  More on that shortly, though.  Shortly, unfortunately, does not apply to very much of anything I'm about to do, since this is likely to be a ridiculously long update, which will in turn be coupled with many other ridiculously long updates. What can I say? When you're a sinkwell of useless information, you're bound to get clogged if you don't occasionally spew it all over the place, and I can only type out so many series of lecture notes while randomly inserting gibberish for so long before it gets tedious.  With that in mind, then...

Lonely? Depressed? Oh well.

castomel@hotmail.com

Bored? Ugly? Look no further.

The Archives

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW

I got the hell out of Whitby three weeks ago, dovetailing neatly with my sudden lack of internet access.  This departure, of course, was nothing in the way of permanent; I was back a mere week later, and have returned intermittently since, still bound to my job.  Not that I'm complaining or anything, since we now have competent management NOT run by the Stonecutters.  Anyhow, after disposing of my mother, who felt compelled for some reason to demand I be placed in a non-smoking room, wonder about various niggling details, and generally make a pest of herself, I got down to the business of settling in, which, with the getting of internet access, I have now completed.  It's not cable, but DSL will do.  For now.  They claim they're gonna hardwire the residence for cable, but I have my doubts... at least if the upper-year students can be trusted.  These are the people who feel compelled to wander about, chanting slogans in the dead of night and waking us poor little frosh up.  Moving along, my room basically retained all the elements I liked about my house, minus my house.  Not a bad mix, on the whole.  The only problem is it gets really hot because the sun blazes through the front window, superheating everything.  Then there's the small matter of doing my own laundry... but that's not even remotely interesting, and I have much better to tell. Suffice to say, this is my excuse for utterly abandoning my site for this long.  I guess I don't need one, but hey, I like to be polite... when it doesn't inconvenience me too much, of course.  .

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Cigarettes can cause your mother to become overprotective.

YOU LOUSY BASTARDS....

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Just when the Jays almost busted through, they go and fall apart in magnificent style.  I'll keep this short because it's annoying, but the Jays suffered terminal fallapart in early September, so they died, suffice to say.  Oh, well.  There's always the Leafs. In fact, they start in just a week. Looks like Gord Ash will finally get a break from my photo of honour slot.  Anyway, I went to what was arguably the worst game of the season, an 8-1 crushing at the hands of Seattle.  It was well worth it, however. We got to sit in left field... or maybe right field... I forget which... whatever the case, we were behind Rickey Henderson, who got to hear a great assortment of the best drunken insults known to man.  Instead of responding, he stretched languidly, shoving his ass in our collective face.  This led me to agree fully with the man who shouted "GO BACK TO RUSSIA!". Unfortunately, the usherbitches being what they are, he was ejected.  Or at least a lot of the hecklers were.  Some things just never change...

Ash is rumoured to be planning a retreat to the FatCave, where he can confer with Robin to create a new team less rich in cholesterol but with the same lousy flavour.  Gooooooo Ashman!

THIRD AND ONLY HALFWAY? UNHEARD OF!

Pirates rock.  I went to a pub last week, and who was there but some fat dumbass dressed up as the captain himself?  Now, the captain has become a good source of inside jokes and various sayings such as "Arrr!" and "G'arrr!" and "D'arrr!".  Variety is key to any good set of sayings, so you can see this one has good shelf life.   At any rate, the captain came equipped with three busty maidens of the ocean, dressed in what were probably leftover busty maiden of Christmas outfits, carrying a chest filled with... probably rum, since that was what they were hyping with the whole affair.  The captain, moving along, talked to everyone, especially the drunks, who responded in pirate accents with gusto.  It's nice to know that in this day and age the common drunk can still talk with a sea pirate and get free handkerchiefs from other common drunks. I hung it on my wall with pride. Arrrrr!

This maiden of the sea be somewhat more comely than the wenches we did see in the pub, g'arr! 'Tis of a certainty her bright red wench top that does it, I be thinkin'.  "tis fine rum, at any rate.  G'arrrr!

THE OLYMPICS: PART 1

Nothing like a good Olympics to keep people distracted while fuel prices the world over are jacked up.  This was the theory, at any rate.  It almost worked, but the growth of internet coverage kind of spiked this wheel, and so people aren't nearly as interested in sports as they should be.  Besides, gas prices have reached ridiculous levels almost everywhere. Then again, I don't see why fuel cell technology isn't accelerated.  The price would probably be comparable, it's a cleaner alternative, it's virtually an inexhaustible resource(at least the hydrogen fuel cells) and you can even put Saddam out of business while you're at it! Think of all the advantages here! Just think of them! Okay... fine. Continue filling up with gas.  See if I care.  I don't drive, so it doesn't make much difference to me.

Energy company indeed... why don't they just admit it? "Polluting your world.. one customer at at a time."

THE OLYMPICS: PART 2: First Blood

Okay, maybe now I'll actually talk about Olympics, since that is what I titled this section and all.  I've been loosely keeping track of it, which is more or less inevitable, given my addiction to all-sports radio.  Pity me; this particular dementia stems back to the seventh grade, when I grew tired of listening to rap and desperately switched to another station.. and got hooked.  It's really quite peculiar.  There's very few entertaining people actually on the station, and some of them are downright inane.  On the whole,  I probably would have been better adjusted to life if I'd stuck with the rap, but I went all-sports, so now I'm screwed. It's really an excellent sleep aid, however.  Because they're sports journalists, they're lacking in creativity to the extreme.  They thus possess the unique ability to hammer away at a single argument with blinding singleness of mind and purpose for weeks at a time, harping over the same tired scenario with an endless array of expert opinions, what-ifs, and the other tawdry trappings of talk radio at its worst. And the commercials! Every seven minutes, you get subjected to the most dumbed-down advertising imaginable, comparable in most respects to monster truck ads and their ubiquitous "SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY!" Noise abounds. At any rate, I do like sports, so it's a good way to keep up, and because it's so monotonously boring, it can knock you out in ten seconds flat if you pay attention to it.  Hey, I still didn't talk about the Olympics! Damnation...

You'll thank me later when you never have to realize the true meaning of All Sports, All the Time!

Ahem!

YEAH, I GUESS I'LL ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT THE OLYMPICS NOW...

Now that was rambling.  Okay, the Olympics.  What is there to say, really? It's funny listening to everyone moon over how we only have 7(well, actually it's 9 now, but people tend to take awhile to have information sift through to them when they don't listen to All-Sports radio) medals.  Think about it logically for a moment. We put no money into our sports program, have a ridiculously small population base, and seem indifferent to sports any other time of the year.  What do you expect? I think we're lucky to get the medals we have. At least we're not embroiled in any doping scandals yet.  That's wicked how the IOC is busting up the US now over that.  It's just too good that they've gone and stepped on their toes.  Why would you even agree to have the IOC cover up the drug tests when you know they can whip them out at a moment's notice? It's all a big joke anyway... Most of the people there are so obviously on performance enhancing drugs, claiming otherwise is just stupid.  And the best part is Ben Johnson whining about how he should get his gold medal back.  If you jump off a bridge, and then four other people jump off a bridge, you don't get reincarnated just because they're morons too.  Then again, when running is your main gift, I suppose logical arguments aren't exactly your forte.  Oh, well.  We have 9.  Who knows? We might even hit double digits! Then again, maybe we won't.

AND IN CONCLUSION

Okay, that's about all I have to say.  I could go on about our stonecutter manager getting fired, but I promised I wouldn't, so I won't.  Maybe someday. Nah.  Probably not.

INTREPID BABY SAYS:

Go Home! Inmediately!

You dare to put words in my mouth? They shall never go home! NEVER! Oh, fine.  I have to preen anyway.