Friday, December 30

And the winner is

The biggest shock of the holiday season has to be my father getting into Top Chef.

He's eaten in Tom Colicchio's restaurant, but 9 seasons into the Bravo show, and my mum has failed in all of her previous attempts to get him to watch.

Which 13 episode season has he watched in a week?

The first Canadian version!

No Padma, or Tom, and only a tiny bit of Gail, but with an identical format to the US version.

Tuesday, December 27

Monkey in repeat win shocker


Wow, I only went and won my Fantasy Football League ...

Friday, December 23

Close Your Eyes ...


... and think of all the frozen lakes in Florida where kids grow up playing Ice Hockey.

I took my parents to see the Bruins demolish the Florida Panthers tonight. Wooooo!

After a club singer with false teeth, sung the National Anthem, the action got underway.

The Bruins killed the game in the first period, to the point that mum said, "They should just have a big fight now" to conclude the evening's entertainment.

As usual I forgot to tell my parents to take ID to the game, so we had that awkward moment where the guy behind the bar sells 2 beers to me, but then contemplates not selling one to my dad.

Tonight an old lady won fan of the match, which bagged (in her case) a life's supply of pizza.

Top night all round.

Monday, December 19

Jerry, look who moved in next door

As I flick through the news this morning of Kim Jung Il's sudden death I couldn't help but notice this picture of the North Korean Embassy in London.

It looks like a suburban house from a 70s sit-com. I imagine the theme tune plays every time the front door opens.

Thursday, December 15

Happy Birthday Darling

This is odd. It's Anne's birthday and we're apart.

She flew off to Clevelandia yesterday for an extended Pre-Christmas visit with her family. I'm joining up with them at the end of my work week.

Last time I missed her birthday was 1994. I was going to make some joke about listening to music from that year, but I just realized that 17 years later Take That were and still are the biggest thing in the UK.

As you can see, I bought her a helicopter last year.

This year I got her a bean bag. And she loves it more than the helicopter. Because quite simply she cannot put the helicopter in front of the fireplace and warm her cold feet.

I still don't know if I have a wife that doesn't wear jewelry, or if Anne has a husband who doesn't buy it.

Happy Birthday Fruitster!!

Wednesday, December 14

The Power of Advertising

I had my own mini-version of the Siri vs Anti-Abortion conflict tonight.

I was googling the lyrics to 'My Love Goes Down' by British retro-rapper-slash-Amy-Winhouse-with-a-Dick Plan B.

As I suspected the lyrics are quite literally about him 'going down' (not sure why I used dick quotes there) on his baby. Baby in the female companion sense. Not infant.

But the geniuses at Google with their complicated algorithms determined that I was searching for Plan B, the Morning After Pill. Who knows? Maybe after My Love Goes Down, the aforementioned gentleman will come back up for air and contemplate other sexual avenues that lead to impregnation?

I appear to have turned into a sex education booklet from a bygone age.



Thanks Google. Furthermore I'm sure the word content of this post in isolation will lead to thousands of spam e-mails.

Fuck it, I might as well lure the spammers into my sights. I need a Nigerian Bank transfer, a gold watch and enough viagra to never lose the erection that my Ukrainian mail-order bride demands.

Thursday, December 8

The natives are restless

I did my bit for the community tonight. Sort of.

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts bought a single train track from a private freight company last year. The track runs through Cambridge near to where I live.

MassDOT had the awesome idea of providing a commuter train service from the Worcester/Framingham corridor into the North Station of Boston, meaning a fast train would stop traffic in my dense, and let's be honest, wealthy neighborhood 24 times a day.

As a City we have rallied to 'Stop the madness', and tonight at a public meeting the results of the MassDOT analysis were revealed. They are not going to develop the plan. For now.

But one more time. Not. Moving. Forward. With. Plan.



So why do I feel conflicted?

I cannot help feeling a bit NIMBY about this. The plan would have taken cars off the road, and provided transport links for less fortunate neighborhoods into Boston, and the analysis showed that on average my commute would be 19 seconds longer.

What pissed me off was that the rep from MassDOT revealed the findings in the first 2 minutes. Very clearly, he said "We are not building a commuter train route through your City", and yet when it came to 'Any Questions', 20+ concerned residents ranted nonsensically about why the plan was such a terrible idea in the first place.

Hey douchebags. We won. OK? They weren't even being self-satisfied, instead they were just venting because they'd gone to the meeting knowing that they'd get their righteous 15 seconds of microphone time no matter what, so even though their crappy point was no longer relevant we still had to listen.

I left with my opinion reversed. I now want a fast train stopping traffic twice an hour, as disgruntled residents huff and puff (on their lattes) about the Federal Law that makes a train whistle blow compulsory at a level crossing.

However.

What pissed me off the most?

A deficiency of public speaking skills.

Boundless erms, errs, and aahs interrupting pointless repetitive bullshit from elected officials and people with 'communications' on their shiftily designed business cards.

Best fake tweet of the day



Affleck's aquarium goes head to head with Damon's zoo.

Tuesday, December 6

It is not a tumor!

I just ordered the 2nd best thing to come out of Austria.

Hopefully in time for Christmas we will have a Sacher-Torte, freshly delivered from Vienna.

And with my parents visiting for the Holidays we'll also be feasting on Yorkshire Puddings and Gravy, Christmas Pudding and Custard, and maybe some Mince Pies.

Later this week, we're hitting the British Food shop to hopefully save my folks from dragging a suitcase full of Hob-Nobs, Cadbury's Selection Boxes, and Heinz Treacle Tarts through Customs.

Monday, December 5

The Winter of Content

I seldom get the chance to celebrate a whole week of dick-bag free happiness.

I find it quite difficult to write about contentment, in fact these first 2 sentence have taken me 5 minutes to write whereas my rants about retail flow like music from Mozart's pen, or quill, or whatever he wrote with (GarageBand?)

Anne switched jobs a few weeks ago, and she's never been so happy. The weather is not bat-shit crazy yet, but it's still cold enough to put the fire on at night. I've moved a pair of jeans to my "too big for me" closet, and even at my job I'm working on a project that is enjoyable.

'My Favorite Things' is playing in my head. Not the Sound of Music version, but the John Coltrane cut. So that's happy and cool at the same time.

In this period of heightened enlightenment, we've even started playing the lottery ... in 2 countries. We'll probably win some time this month.

Over and out!