E.T. THE EXTRA TACO

Yesterday I started an entry about "roofing" things, but it didn't really have the legs because there isn't much to roofing and I don't know if kids even do it anymore because they're busy with growing up too fast. I'll boil it down for you just in case you're interested:

- if you're significant other dumps you, roof their stuff
- if you have garbage and you don't know what to do with it, roof it
- definitely roof dog shit
- go on roofs to find what people have roofed

It's not a roof unless it stays roofed. Nice rainbow though, good for roofing

If I were to write an essay on roofing those point form notes would be my starting point. My intro would begin, "For centuries man has used roofs to hold up houses and jump off into snow banks, but our ingenuity has produced some surprising uses, the foremost being roofing". Keep in mind, this is the first draft so I'd probably add bigger words after, words like extinguish. My conclusion would go something like, "Perhaps we won't need roofs when we go back to teepees but we can still throw towels and stuff up there, right?". ALWAYS END WITH A QUESTION. It leaves your audience wanting more and increases their appetite and when they quench their hunger they associate that moment with your tasty essay. A+.

I've never really had a problem remembering my dreams and I feel bad for people who don't. It's like going on vacation and being asleep the whole time. Whoa that's a poignant thought I think: "A dream is a vacation when you sleep, but if you sleep through a vacation your dreams don't come true". That's the first thing I'm going to say to my baby when it's born and GUARANTEED it'll grow up to make at least $50,000 dollars a year and will have a subscription to at least one thought provoking magazine.

I'm not a perfect dreamer. I rarely, if ever, have a lucid dream and most of my sex-themed dreams rarely get sexy because even in dreams I'm like "I can't cheat" or the woman has reservations despite it being my fantasy. I'm a nice guy! Anyway, last night I had a really weird one where I woke up and found a body bag in my wardrobe. I woke Liv up in the dream and she peaked inside the bag and was like "It's Anna Nicole Smith". I called 911:

"We found a body in our place."
"Do you know who it is?"
"The actress, Anna Nicole Smith"

This must've taken place in 2007. The rest of the dream was us trying to figure out why and how someone got into our apartment and dumped Anna Nicole Smith's body. The cops didn't even question me.

As I was applying my fourth coat of mousse before work today, the dream was still fresh in my mind and I thought it might make a good TV show where every day a guy wakes up and a new dead body is in his wardrobe. He doesn't even care about the bodies, he's just pissed someone keeps doing it. People are such idiots in the morning right after a night of dreams. More robberies should happen in the morning. "Honey there's a man looking through your jewels, but I'm tired and I had a dream about Kathy Ireland".

YOU SCREAM FOR ICED SCREAM

I'm going to the Scottage this weekend, but before I go I have several things to take care of. Going away for a relaxing few days in lake country isn't as easy as tying your pet to the fridge, throwing some gum and paper towels in a grocery bag and threatening someone for a ride. You gotta be organized! Let me take you through "Phase 1" of my cottage summer weekend planning package.

TASK ONE - Car Ride

Some people sleep during car rides, other puke, but me, I like good old fashioned conversation. I always aim to have a few topics ready before I get in the car and this time I think I want to talk about how Hitler didn't use the Pyramids as his base.

TASK TWO - Food

Classic cottage food is stuff like hamburgers, s'mores, beer and toads, which is easy to plan for, and execute when it comes to time to "make some poo". My dad taught me to never take the easy way out unless you're in the house of an asshole, so I like to mix it up. This year I'm encouraging my friends to make all their meals out of plasticine before making them for real. When everyone is done their models, we'll judge which one looks the best and the worst. Whoever gets picked as the worst has to eat the entire plasticine meal while the winner gets to sit on the best chair in the joint until sunrise.

TASK THREE - Activities

- someone play dead and drift to the middle of lake in canoe
- rubbing feet against stone - biggest callous at end wins. Top bleeder gets first shower in the morning
- penis length contest
- try to replace all the lake water with Coke (need buckets)
- force some idiot eat tree sap
- make up a verbal Internet
- make mosquito chamber, put man in it, see how many bites it takes to die
- play Uno
- make some art out of crud
- Listen to the audiobook of Tim Allen's "Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man" around the campfire
- pee all over the place

And that's Phase 1! Phase 2 is all about execution and making decisions on the fly. One year we didn't even make it to the cottage because we decided that Wendy's has better hamburgers so we stayed there the whole time. By my 19th Junior Bacon Cheeseburger I was so out of it that I thought my nose was a gun and anytime someone burped we would rave for 3 hours. See you next week!

SIGMUND FRAUD

UPSIDE BACKWARD

A short story of neo-fiction


Mikk and Drip work for the city.

They've been best friends since the day they met, Marf 36th, 3045. Over the years they shared many interests - tubby girls, vintage silk, and finding the freshest produce in town. They'd share ripe Zengarn Apples picked fresh off the trees growing out of the side of the cat museum and talk about their future while pulling carrots from the toilet garden in the new mall powered by hugs. Back then it didn't really matter where they'd end up in life, as long as they were together.

They had originally applied to be garbage makers, but when the clerk saw they had filled out their applications using a sugarcane quill with blueberry ink, they were immediately flagged and sent to Zone West for a then top secret municipal project. Opportunities for young bucks fresh out of water school don't come around that often so the choice to stick around was an easy one.

Training took the better part of a lunch hour and by the time the fresh week began the two faux brauxthers hit the streets with new responsibilities, new equipment, new belts, and new names. Mikk took the name "Penis" after the great liberator who freed the basketball players 250 years prior. Drip always liked him name so he dropped the "D" and added a "P". The woman working down in name tags had never tingled as fiercely as that afternoon when Prip put in the request. His daddy used to say "If you make the girls tingle, soon they'll want your dingle".

Their first call came that same day when the Priest of Police himself rang their bell and alerted them to a hot spot at a nearby domed barn. It was dark. Training was always so well lit! Hearts pumped and sweat said hello as they cautiously made their way through the barn looking like Frankenstein when he went anywhere. When they smelled it they knew they were in the right spot.

Unnatural. Thick. Somewhat desirable, then very desirable. Right outta the guidebook. The Great Masters said anti-freeze tastes like a cool summer breeze, but that don't make it right. They proceeded blindly into a large chamber, whispers in the dark. A low level sizzle could be heard, but where was it coming from?

"By the order of the Mayor and all his birds, we order you to cease and turn some lights on."

Prip knew it was an empty statement, but rules are rules. Surprisingly, the suspects obliged and the chamber was alight.

Three men. Four men? No, seven. Seven men, two units, three shelves. The calculations seemed quick enough to Penis but before he knew it an eighth man had him upside down by his feet. Prip wasn't faring any better, as two men proceeded to drag him to the bigger of the two units. It wasn't rocket math to figure out what would happen next.

The shortest man in the bunch attended the active unit and removed an alloy cage from it, moving its brown contents onto what appeared to be toilet paper laid out on a platter. Penis recognized the spread from one of the visions they were fed in training - fried bird and potato fries. A Class 5 violation punishable to either death or hung feet first from a helicopter for three weeks straight. He went for his flasher but was quickly detained by his captors and led to the shelves where he saw boxes of Class 4 cocoa strips and some other illegals he didn't recognize.

They got fed fried chicken and candy (which is illegal in the future) and they loved it so they quit.

It's not done yet, but I didn't want to rob you of a satisfying conclusion. The future. Live well. The end.

I'M STUNNED BY HOW MANY WARTS SHE HAS -- THAT MEANS SHE'S STUNNING

Unless you've been living inside of a dog for the last 13 cycles, you'll know that I've been working in an office for as long as this blog has existed. Like everything in life expect for water parks, working in such an environment has its positives and its negatives. On the positive you get air conditioning and a computer. On the negative you have to dress like a golfer and you look forward to going to the bathroom, a tendency normally reserved for constipates and poo champions. The number one best part? You get your very own email signature, which for all you miners out there is like a regular signature but with more raw data. Here's a simple example:

Horton Donkey
Junior Picker
The Pelt People
T: 345-345-NNNN
E: H_Donkey@email.hotmail

Since email is an office's number one form of communication, I see about six million email signatures a day from all over the world. Facts -- It's standard for Polish people to include their last dead relative's nickname on line 4, while over in China, every signature is annotated with what each word is supposed to smell like. We don't have them here, but over there desks contain tiny compartments full of smells and combinations of smells so that each signature can be read properly. That's why you'll see North American businessmen bring local soups and perfume samples when traveling to the far east for meetings. (This paragraph smells like pesto)

I thought this would be an opportune time to post some of the WaCKiEst email signatures I've ever come across, since 79% of this summer's blockbuster films were about email.

MR. JOHN McTHICK
CEO
Great Muscles Entertainment
000-346-43454
CEO@GME.ca
"Im being held captive this is the only way i can communcicate send helpp or call my kids pleas';43'"
GREAT MUSCLES named one of the 50 best employers in the North by WORKIN' Magazine

Ben Puffy
Attorney at Law
(I also play pool)
784-395-3232
(That's the pool hall's number)
8ball@snookerworld.co.uk
"Lawsuits, Corner Pocket" - The Hustler

Cyril Smench
Vice Guru of Curiosity
The WHAT IF company
Numbys - 416-000-0007
EEm - the_duke@???.!!!
We Don't Do Anything

Sarah Longshits
Model
Top Notch Bodies Inc.
I have to see you before I talk to you
Same with email
Fax - 679-888-4928
Measurements 32-25-9 Beat That

PLEASE? IN A POD?

I'm sooooooooooooooooo sorry! I'm also very embarrassed. My face is red, my brow is sweaty and my pants are pissed. Next time I see you in person I owe you a wet sloppy one, free of charge and I'll even moan a bit.

For those of you who don't listen to my Sirius/XM 24 hour news channel, "A Toronto Star"(formerly "The Global Male", formerly "A Toronto Son"), I got an Amazon Kindle for my birthday and didn't share it on the Internet. To many, four months is nothing, but when you're a teen heartthrob and an internationally recognized intellectual whose expertise is Carl Reiner movies about summertime, four months is four months I could've spent analyzing the court scene in Summer School in preparation for my next TED talk.

Oh god, I'm so sorry. There's so much I could've done with this rather large addition to my life, but I guess there's nothing I can do right now; the news is simply too old according to the modern blogging bible, 1994's "Geocities Guide to Web Logging" which came with a free CD-ROM full of Under Construction animated GIFs. Back then, an 'e-book' was any book within 6 feet of your modem.

UPDATE

Talked to my lawyers, The Baxter Twins, and they said I could give a small sampling of what I would've written and I should avoid jail time so long as I don't provide a full feature or say anything bad about Queen Elizabeth. Since I'm already on parole for ruining feeding a cat some tea, I'm a little nervous to even try my luck, so I'm going to keep this bare bones.

LEGALLY CLEARED BLOG CONTENT ABOUT GETTING A KINDLE

"I love the Kindle, but the 'Print' option seems a touch unnecessary."

Does that satisfy you? I have way more material like this fake viral video where I pick a book, then buy as many Kindles as there are pages in that book, then attach the Kindles together where each one is a page, get it? I'd of course film the whole process, speed it up, put a modern, hip, ambient music track behind it, say it was an art project called something like "What's Old is Neu" and set the Internet on fire.

I know my rep has been tarnished with this blatant disregard of a major purchase that absolutely should've been shared, but I hope I made it up to you. If not, here's something that should satisfy:

EYE PLUGS

FRIDAY FLIP SIDES

Welcome to Friday Flip Sides, a new and innovative feature that was brainstormed by myself, a well-respected local businessman, six drama teachers and a coupla dogs over more than a few pots of coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:::::::::::&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

You know that they call that in the hacker-led cybertopia of the year 2050? Punk-Uation. The colons mean I'm serious, the ampersands act as a bookmark for your convenience and the exclamation points simply look radical.

If this feature could talk it'd say "let's take things slow". If this feature were an animal it'd be The Automobile (innovative, kind of annoying).

Flip Side 1

It's mid-August, the weather is warm and sunny.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE....

everyone like, stinks.

Flip Side 2

Toronto Mayor Rob Ford has divided the city with his politics and attitude.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE...

It's mid-August, the weather is warm and sunny.

Flip Side 3

The U.S. debt crisis has led to market turmoil and does not bode well for the worldwide economy.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE...

Hamburgers still grace the grills of the world.

Now keep in mind that this was my team's first stab at this feature. Don't forget that the first time they tried Double Jeopardy on that show Jeopardy, there were 2 casualties and several ghosts.

THE FURM

The last time I honked your way I told you that I was going to London, England. I went, I came back and now that I've cleared customs, I'm legally entitled to write some stuff vaguely related to the trip as well as import 1-3 bottles of Pimm's. To all of you who were concerned for my safety concerning the riots that spread due to outrage over Rowan Atkinson crashing his McLaren F1 super car, I thank you for thinking of me amongst your other thoughts like what tomorrow's sandwich will be. Here is the aforementioned stuff, complete with punctuation:

I've been lucky enough to travel all over Europe, North America and whatever continent the Dominican Republic is in, but traveling actually causes me a great deal of stress, mentally and physically. That basically means I get diarrhea. I'm the type of guy who concerns himself with tiny things and humongous things -- in a given day I'll get stressed out about the length of my fingernails, while fascinating myself with thoughts about outer space, the biggest place in the world. I don't know where I was going with this, but be thankful, because any bit of information I hand out could be used against me in a lawsuit or game show. Anyway, I think it might just mean that I don't understand politics. Here, how about this:

I see "The Airport" as a giant challenge. I'm on time for everything because my brain is mostly clock, whereas scientists' are mostly calculators and everyone else's is mostly naked people. If flying was as simple as showing up on time and getting on a plane, it'd be easy pie, no stress, "let's do this again", but it's more like a video game -- there's a bunch of little tests and you can only pass them if you're early enough and have in your possession certain items (passport, shoes not made of bombs).

An airplane is like a bedroom full of people you don't know and instead of beds there are chairs that you have to sit in when told. Even if you are able to get up the only place you can go is the bathroom and the bathroom is as big as one human and one human only.

Then you get to where you're going and no one likes you because you're not from there. I hate tourists because they don't know any of my secret handshakes.

Then you have to go to the airport and airplane again and when you get home you get stressed because you haven't been on the Internet in a week and you're weird about that kind of thing. Chances are, all I missed were some Tweets about food, some Tumbls about Garfield and some Facebook invitations to events whose titles give no indication of what the event is, but I still end up feeling like I did when my family went to Medieval Times without me.

That being said, I had a great time! Every time I got stressed I'd eat beans and things would get funny after that. Laughter is the beans of the soul, and beans are the soul of laughter. I don't mean to slap myself on the cheeks, but that last sentence was very good, and I didn't even think about it, it just came out. Isn't the world weird?

PLATINUM USER SPECIAL CONTENT

People who haven't bought a Platinum Account won't be able to access this content. If you're seeing this and you don't have a Platinum Account, the FBI's Cyber Terrorism Team, the "Big Brown Bears" have been notified and should be at your place of computer in 6-11 days.

I tore this ad out of an in-flight magazine. It's the airline's CEO selling his music. Click on it to make it bigger.

This guy is a few lawsuits and a failed brewery away from being Frank d'Angelo. My favourite is the album "Mostly About You". It's like he had nine good songs about his lovely wife but then wrote a real slammin' track about licorice and just had to put it on. I also like the following cover of him crooning on the wing of an airplane, mid-flight:


As they say in SCUBA diving, "Swimming Rules". BUH BIIIII