Wobbly Weights, the Intelligence of the Ice-Cream Man, and Theatre Dudes Look Like a Lady.
Hello? Anyone still here?
Between the Hockey Greats Fantasy Camp (by the by, I’m now a 2-time, and back to back VT Cup champ) and Okanagan Hockey School, the month of August becomes my one month a year in Kelowna of steady, dependable income. It also requires me to work “all day” like apparently “everyone else” does. Interestingly as it turns out, this approach sees me acquire more money, which I enjoy. Consequently though, it means I go to bed at a “reasonable time”, and my normal midnight to 2am blogging block becomes voided, and thusly it is you, the reader who suffers. I encourage you to write a letter to whoever it is that could get me out of this unwelcomed routine, and just pay me to sleep in and stay up late, in the interest of entertaining you better/at all. So, um, yeah, call all your rich friends and tell them about this AWESOME blogger that you know that they should hand over all their money to in sacks with dollar signs on them; and might I add, chop-chop (hurry, that is).
No one really likes (or so they always say) to toot their own horn, but if you will allow it (not that you have a choice, I’m the one writing after all), toot-toot! At the inception of this blog last July, I had a whopping 228 reads that first month. Now a year later, my last July’s read total came to 2,566. Now, compared to other bloggers, this is probably still nowhere near their ballparks, but for me I’m going to count it a success. And of course, I only have you to thank. So, thanks for reading!! I hope the trend continues, and that you’ll stick around for the long haul.
Alright, on with some non-sense….
Funny how everyone’s weigh scales, whether they are at home in the bathroom or at the gym, are apparently always wrong. I mean, have you ever stepped on a scale that wasn’t yours that you hadn’t heard was out 5-10 pounds, or something like that? “Oh, yeah no, if you use it on the carpet, it’ll be waaay off…” I hate to sound harsh, but can we all just sober up and deal with the truth for a second…. YOU’RE OVERWEIGHT. There, I said it. Admitting the problem is the first step, right? Now, we can all move on together, and figure out how to get the scale to read the number we want it to…
When I started dating my now-wife, she filled me in on some men’s fashion tips that I believe I benefited from: Match the belt with the shoes, don’t button up the bottom button on your suit jacket, etc. But there’s one incredible faux-pas that even a fashion idiot like myself doesn’t need to be told not to perform. Have you seen guys wearing suits that do up the top button on their shirt without wearing a tie? If you’re a kid trying to fit-in at school and you roll up dressed like this, you might as well punch-a-size your own face, just voluntarily enter the locker, and lock it behind you; you’ve purchased a non-refundable, one-way ticket to Geektown.
Why do dudes in theatre productions always have to wear caked-on eye-shadow and lipstick? Why can’t they just look like dudes on stage?? Why is it supposedly more believable or realistic that the men would be wearing girl faces while pretending to dance through a fictional life scenario on stage? Don’t we want to differentiate the men FROM the women? Are they going for some sort of non-partisan, inter-gender approach?
The sooner we get the Bob Saget voice-over to the concluding statement, “…and that’s how I met your mother.” On the “hit” (so they say) show “How I Met Your Mother”, the better. That show’s soooooooo over-rated. Doogie Howser and the American Pie band-camp girl are just really not my cup of tea.
The ice cream man drove down our block the other day playing a Christmas medley of songs instead of the traditional one it’s played for the past 50 years (“The Entertainer”, I believe?). Apparently a focus group think-tank determined nothing moves popsicles into kids’ faces during the hot summer months like a Silent Night/Jingle Bells ice-cream truck remix. Maybe there’s something to it – we’ll see if at Christmas I start craving popsicles for the following six months, and upon my first hearing of the chimes, whether I take out a small loan and buy the entire contents of the truck. My brother used to buy so many popsicles when he was a kid that when the ice-cream man would come down our street, he would literally park outside our house playing the song until he came out. I’ve heard other stories of people being followed down the street by ice-cream trucks. The popsicle peddlers are a sneaky bunch; now that I think about it, maybe that idea isn’t so crazy/beyond them after all….