Amazingly Tragic

*contains Amazing Race 6, ep. 3, spoilers*

Oh, how my heart broke! Lena rolling and rolling bales and bales in the dark, Kristy only able to stand by and watch ... It's a shame that hard work and perseverance wasn't rewarded by the cruel world and steely-eyed Phil Keoghan.

Yeesh, if anyone needs to go, it's blue-haired human hyperbole, Jonathan. I thought Colin from the last Amazing Race was abusive and controlling (certainly he was edited that way). I don't think any amount of editing is going to help Jonathan's cause.

And my heart broke when Victoria thought his temper and unpredictability was one of his charms. Living a boring life never looked so good. As pop culture diva VicBear pointed out to me earlier, Victoria's flinch in the cab seemed far too familiar and practised.

It is pure coincidence that I have friends named Jonathan and Victoria. Except we know them as Jon and Vic. They are married, but not to each other.

Flickr-ing Out

It does seems that Flickr, my image hosting service, is on the fritzr tonight. Or maybe it's just me. Either way, I'm sorry.

29 Days Later

Halloween has come and gone but the costume remains. With veiled reference to the best zombie movie I've seen recently (have not yet viewed Shaun of the Dead), I am pleased to announce I've figured out how to post photos without having to use monopolizing Microsoft's Internet Explorer. So, for those who have been awaiting the first buzz-around of HappyBee, here she is...

You can't see the stinger, but believe me ... it's there.

Sunday without The Simpsons

Thanks to Americans giving thanks, Springfield's famous family has a night off. Perhaps it is a welcome respite. I have to agree with fellow critic Jon: the quality of the writing has been less-than-stellar this season. I've already mentioned last week's ep was a saving grace, but the previous two shows have been abysmal. I'm almost worried.

Maybe it's because all creativity and thought had been funnelled into re-vamping the official webpage. Quimby's cabinet of characters has some gems: Milhouse VanHouten and Ralph Wiggum are as good as expected; Lenny Leonard and Rod Flanders are pleasant surprises. Missing from the files are Jasper, Hans Moleman and Uter, among legions of other favourites. Somebuddy better right this rig before it's too late. How I miss season 8.

So what to do on a Simpsonless night? Yahtzee! Shelley kicked my can to the curb. It wasn't close. Total scores after three games = 758 to 551.

No Simpsons, no yahtzees and no 35-point bonuses ... and the Raptors laid an egg at the end of the game today. If it wasn't for Rei's amusing supper of dill pickles, I wouldn't be having any fun!

Woozy Nash Coming Back

I jumped on the Phoenix Suns bandwagon when Steve Nash signed in the off-season. I fastened my seatbelt upon said bandwagon when Japanese player Yuta Tabuse made the team. He played decently in his first couple games before the acquistion of Bo Outlaw sent him to the "injured" list.

It was with a mix of dismay and hope that I learned of Nash's concussion in last night's game: oh no! Hair Canada is out, but ... maybe Yuta comes off the injured list to get into some games! Turns out the head knock was mild and Nash is back. Which is good, but not as good as it could be.

Advent is a season of hope and waiting. Not saying that Yuta Tabuse is the Messiah. But I do ask, who's number one? Yuta! Yuta!

Bye, Buy Nothing Day

I did try. I really did try to buy nothing today. I planned on hunkering down at home, working on stuff and not enter into any commercial transaction or enterprise. Instead I ended up going to South St. hospital in London to make a pastoral visit.

En route, I cashed a couple cheques and some coinage - a financial transaction, but still no purchase. I stopped at a particular store to price a particular item (a Christmas gift) to find a spectacular deal on a last-in-stock item. CBC talked about "Buy Nothing Christmas" whose intended spirit is "buy smarter" rather than "buy blindly". Getting this particular gift now was the smart thing to do. Although ... technically, I did not buy it. Mastercard did.

My noble journey unequivocally ended with $5.51 at Tim Horton's for my BLT, Boston Cream and black coffee. Being a person of artificially-moderated blood sugar levels, I could not put this purchase off.

I did otherwise manage to buy nothing today: using our domestic vacuum to clean the car instead of the commercial hose job at the car wash; postponing our purified water refill until tomorrow; not paying for the CD player that I grabbed out of some church ... (a joke, that last one. Really! Ask the bastard who was chasing me).

Maybe I'll be able to buy nothing on Monday. Or maybe I can block out today's lunch hour.

Waste-o Thursdays

I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing. I am supposed to be finishing and submitting a reflection paper for my course with the Centre for Christian Studies. Instead, I procrastinate.

I lovingly recall this practice from my university days, identified to me by a floormate, Ethan, as "waste-o", as in "waste o' time". This not to be confused with intoxication as others might call "wasted" (which in Ethan-speak is "stink-o", as in "stink o' beer"). This expansion of my vocabulary was courtesy of the man who composed the classical piece, "Taco Bell Canon." Coming soon to a wedding near you.

My list of waste-o accomplishments this afternoon/evening: 2 loads of laundry; gym, ran three 6-minute miles; 2 naps; groceries; curry; 1 beer; vicariously visited New Zealand via Jeffy and Cheryl's pics and vids; scoured the web for useful information; solo Catan settling; online chat with Martyn, bringing him up to date on The Simpsons (this past Sunday's episode was the best by far of the new season); blogged.

My paper is in and done. Thank you and good night!

First Steps

Some firsts today for Rei: she used a pillow; she tasted and spit out latkes at supper; she gets mentioned in my blog.

And she walked. Four independent steps to Shelley, to greet her return from work. Then it was a delirious, giddy time of back and forth, steps and slips, between her parents. So exhilarating, so fun, so fast ... she's growing up so fast.

Next? We'll work on her cross-over dribble and drive to the basket.

Hello Haloscan. Hello hello.

So anyone who has an opinion can share. Not that I'm saying you're an overly opinionated bunch...

Belated Bobo

Now I would be remiss if I did not offer belated birthday wishes to my dear friend Bobo. While our paths have taken different directions, my thoughts turn to Clark Hall Pub and a bleary-eyed drunkard effusing his love and appreciation for everyone in close proximity. (Is "close proximity" redundant?)

Happy birthday Bobo; may all your hangovers be light. A Canadian Tire dollar is on your way.

I see that I've set a dangerous precedent for myself... apologies in advance to the many people whose birthdays I will not acknowledge in the days to come. I'm so "sorry".

happy birthday

Blast off! Only fitting that the madness begins on dear Ursy's birthday.
A tribute haiku/birthday present:

doctor ursula

is a stylin' birthday queen

smells like daiquiri

Happy birthday kid. Everyone else, welcome to the online meditations of an irreverent man of the cloth. So be it, Amen.