Star Wars was the first when i saw it

Posted Aug 29 at 8:39 PM

Okay, this may lead to a long LOOOOOONG line of entries regarding really bad dates or really bad choices of people for dates. Or something altogether different. Shiny object writing. 

I was telling a story the other night to a new server at the pub. We were going over the table numbers in the bar and we came to table 8. 

Table 8, you see, has a bit of a reputation. Smallest table in the pub. Suitable for a first date couple, or an affair couple, though too exposed....but this table, table 8 is best suited for single men who are writing the screenplay of their life and wear ridiculously oversized knit sweaters. 

Let me introduce you to Table 8, as he was soon to be labeled. An 'actor' (ie unemployed) moved here from Montreal to write his screenplay. Wears these hand knit wool sweaters that are two sizes too big. Looks like a kid wearing his dad's clothes. 

At that time I was feeling very liberal toward artists so I thought him to be eclectic and surely had to be interesting as what else could one unemployed fella have to offer? Table 8 and I flirted for a while within the pub until I finally agreed to a "date". 

I think 'date' consisted of a few pints somewhere and then back to my place. Sextervention was still in effect which he was informed. Much to my chagrin, Table 8, the demure, starving artist, was cool with this as he was one for foreplay with a hint of s and m and b and d. (oh those acronymns!)

For the layman (ha)... he'd like to tie me up and spank me and perhaps choke me to unconsciousness Hopefully part of my wedding vows... one day....alas, I dream....) 

Shite....tbc
amberrupted

Foot in mouth

Posted

Mood: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!, Music: shout out louds
Here's, I'm sure, another repeat of sorts... but I was speaking with my Friend Wade on Thursday and oh, how we laughed...and laughed and laughed ( you get the point).

I worked with him at the bank. Actually, I did manage to help him out some to get promoted and as it stands now, he's a huge (not as in obese) member of the bank. Big $$$, I presume...little work. lotsa delegation and working the beuraucracy...nicely done, Wade).

Anyway, when he and I were both in somewhat upper management, there was a meeting conducted by the head of HR with all assistant managers in the centre as she feared there seemed to be a mutiny in the works.

The host of said meeting was a lovely woman...really down to earth, easy to speak to and could -ahem- relate to us "little people" within the management scheme of things. Oh, also, she is gay. Cool. Fine.

When the floor was opened for all mgrs to comment on how they felt, it was rather disappointing. Many ranted on about how they wanted coloured Post-it Notes, but the budget wouldn't allow. Or why couldnt we have 2 ply toilet paper in the ladies bathroom. Even further...why was the elevator reserved only for the disabled.... after a big lunch at the Chinese down the street, sometimes it was difficult to walk "all those stairs".

Wade and I sat quiet, nudging each other and watching poor  Joan, the HR head, squirm with empathetic responses. Finally Wade piped up....

"Well, Joan, I think what we're ALL trying to say here.... is that when dealing with our own top managers, we feel our concerns fall on deaf ears. As well, we seem to be the people who deal with those manager's problems as well as the rest of the staff, the front line. No one seems to hear us, and we have no resources to go to.

Basically Joan, 'it's like we have ONE FINGER IN THE DYKE".

Well, I tell ya. One, I never expected Wade to use such a euphamism (is that correct?), but certainly I didn't think he'd use a statement that also seemed to directly reference our host.

I gasped aloud, covered my mouth, and proceeded to laugh aloud (juvenile as that may be). He glared at me for a second until he realised what he'd said and whom he'd said it to.

I had to then leave the boardroom. Apparently you could hear me, hysterically laughing down the hall, repeating "one finger in the dyke.... gold, that's gold, baby!"

I remained outside the meeting, and waited for Wade to come out at lunch. Soon as I saw him I fell to the floor, laughing again. Joan came out too, and I made quick exit.

Lunch hour consisted of all of us taking the piss outta Wade. Good times. I went to Joan's office after lunch to apologise for my behaviour. I wasn't positive she'd caught what was going on, until she looked up....laughing...tears in her eyes and said "You bitch, do you realise how hard it was for me NOT to laugh? I felt like accusing him of fingering my girlfriend!!!"

Ah, good ol' Wade.

The recent foot-in-mouth incidents havent even been said by me (but just you wait)....
Customers had invited me to play softball with them, but I had to decline as I was taking my mum to lunch. They suggested she come along... I declined again...said merely that it would be too difficult to get her to the park. Surely, one of them began to say...and I tried to cut him off before he said it.... but he went on "What, is your mum in a wheelchair or sumthin??!!!"

Mmm, yeah. Uh, yes, she is.
And you could hear a pin drop.

What with Father's Day coming up it seems all customers decided collectively to remind me of such.
Yes, I'd say, I know when it is....
So, what're you doing for your dad, they'd inquire.
"Well, uhm, nothing, really, because...."
and before I could get anything out, they'd berate me. Do you know how important your father is!? Any idea how you'll feel when he's gone. Just you wait until you lose him and then you'll see.... blah blah...."

And then I'd stop them (finally) to let them know he'd passed away years ago. Really is a show stopper that one.

I'll save my phenomenal foot-in-mouth for another time.
Off to do a pedicure so it tastes better.

-Whew- lengthy, sorry.
Guess I'm all excited about heading off in TWO SHORT HOURS to Houston, and Vegas and happiness and joy. Can't wait to see everyone.

muah. See y'all soon!
xxxambursting

blind leading the blind

Posted

Mood: meh, Music: hot snakes, plenty for all

I swear I'm going blind. I am fairly blind (as opposed to 'unfairly blind') as it is, but I tell ya, inclusive of some of the recent beer-goggle dudes of late...there's some kind of myopic problem happening here. Perhaps that laser surgery would be wise.

I thought I had the worst prescription going until I spoke to my friend James, who happened to beat me by a couple of points. Granted, he's had a brain tumour and poor vision was kind of a result (what a show off, I know), but I was still very certain that mine would be worse. Got me thinking that perhaps a brain tumour was in the works for me, too (ever the optimist...or perhaps just competitive).

The other night my good ol boy ChrisThe Bartender decided that he may want to learn Braille so that "he could read to the blind". My first response was dismissive.... "Oh, Chris, as if you'd ever be the type of person to lend yourself to volunteering anything nice like that...."
A few minutes passed and we both seemed to realise at the same time....
Uhm, wait a second.... I guess you could just read to the blind...without the learning Braille part.

Yeah, sharp we are.

I've mentioned this somewhere before, I'm sure. I've got two friends named Pierre. There's "French Pierre" and then there's "One-Eyed Pierre". One Eyed Pierre was playing with GI Joes (the big dolls, not the mini dudes) when he was a kid. Perhaps it was GI Joe and Ken or something, but Joe was wielding one of those cocktail swords and stabbed his attacker (maybe Stretch Armstrong?) and the sword snapped in half and landed nastily in (one-eyed) pierre's eye. (He had two eyes up til then, but this was how it happened). I'm still leery of those cocktail swords.

He's got a glass eye. You can't really tell unless you know, but once you know then you can't help but stare at it. Or at least I can't help it. Nice, I know.

Then there's Dave. And we just call lhim Dave. Not even "one Eyed Dave" even though there are so many Dave's around. Anyway, I have no idea what happened to his eye, but he wears an eyepatch.
The first time my dad ever met him was on Halloween, when he brought his kid by. to trick-or-treat.
Much to my embarrassment, my dad asked him where the 'rest of his costume' was. Right when I was spitting up my beer in shock, he continued on.... What kind of pirate dresses in jeans and a t-shirt. And where's your parrot?!
Yeah. I do wonder, however, if poor Dave gets that often on Halloween. Poor one-eyed fella.

Kay, enough about blindness and such. I was just on a kick there. And I'd been winking at people all night because my contact lens kept folding up or something. That winking bit gives people wrong impressions on everything though. Either they think I'm flirting (by the way, I hate when people wink) or they doubt whatever I'm saying at the time....
"So, is the lasagna very good here?" they'll inquire.
"Yeah, sure", I'll respond, but then I wink and they think it's my subtle attempt at telling them not to have it.

Hey, the best of best things ever....and nothing to do with my lacking vision....
I'm off to Houston and then Vegas in 4 days!
Not only that, but I have the pleasure of keeping company with Celina and Enrico and then Phil and Heather and Jay and a brief night with Kat and Vanessa. And I tell you, this is a much needed happy-fest for me, and I really couldn't think of a better crew to be around for some right proper joyous rejuvenation.

Can't wait to see you all.
I didn't even wink when I wrote that. But my eyes were all wide open like I was startled, so it's best there's no web cam. I look all sketchy I'm sure.

Heh. "Can't wait to see you all...."   guess I can't wait to barely see you all.
xxxamblind