"And by awesome, I mean totally sweet"
I apologize for appearing new and excited, but I thought this was appropriate haloween material. Never be stuck for a costume again. By the way, I have tried this with a number of different shirts and it works beatifully, everytime. I will have to look into this blogger thing when I am ready. For now, it is amazingly time consuming, and im not even done. Also, I have been listening to the Gravediggaz lately, and about half of what I hear is great, and the other half totally off the mark. Its Wu Tang under a different light, and sometimes I like it.

All Your Base Are Belong To T

Aaaaaahahahahaha... this is sweet. Stolen off of a site found looking for other Northbay bloggers.
Seems like im on a Mr T kick, but this one was random..I promise :)

Damn am I able to make a good pot roast :) Tenderest and tastiest. Guaranteed!

uh oh... now when I click post, nothing is there... This is scary... im not sure im ready fer the HTML skills I need to customize my own stuff. I keep messin up. This is the 4th template change Ive tried. Why oh why didnt I pay attention in class?

Free is no longer.. there is only marketing now.

Spyware is the brainchild of advertising companies that suspect that profit is to be made with the internet. They dream of a time when a price can be put on information, and services are ordered, rather than provided. This is the reflection of human greed, and is a natural evolution of the internet. Spyware is installed on your machine when you neglect to read the terms and services agreements when installing new software. Sometimes it is installed whether you like it or not, and sometimes, it is completely invisible. When napster died, i used kazaa. It seemed to work fine, but i was getting an awful lot of pop ups when i surfed the net. My connection seemed slow at times as well. Kazaa began to use spyware, as well as installed a secret 2nd p2p program, which was to be activated at a later, unnanounced date! It does a number of things, but believe me, spyware is bad. Download Ad-aware now, and scrub yer machine clean! I now use blubster to find my music, and catch myself wishing for the good ole days of audiogalaxy to come back. Boo fer incomplete downloads.

I have found that posting is not concrete. Ive been saving my work with more copy and paste than usual, just to avoid making a mistake while on blogger. Ideas are hard to revisit, and writing can be a slow process. Small mistakes in HTML transalte to huge fuckin errors in weblog. At least thats how I see it. HTML still needs practice.

Not Safe For Work
Do you know your ABC's?
Gets me everytime :)

I'd like to relate an experience with you. An addiction really, and a deadly one. The number one cause of death in Canada is not Murder, nor is it by car accident, but rather it is this. My father has smoked since he was 12 years old. He is 63 now. 50 years of smoking has caused him to have had a double bypass, and while in the hospital, he developed two ulcers. He bled alot during surgery, and when they sewed him up, he was unconscious from the anaestesia for nearly a day. When he awoke, a horrifying experience await. Two wires protruded from his stomach. An IV dripped clear fluid into his arm. Two tubes blew a steady stream of oxygen into his nostrils. A needle sat in his neck. A large slash from the bottom of his neck to just below the sternum, and another from just above the knee to just before his balls. He was so weak that he couldnt move. What happened next isnt clear to me, but he was given percacet, presumably to numb his pain. He lay in his bed, unable to move much, and either dreamt or hallucinated strange events and things that were more terrifying than any physical experience that my dad has ever had. He spoke of believing that cameras watched him, and that the night nurses were all drug addicts. They killed John Wayne, they did, and he was next. They killed every third one of them, after all. He saw piles of bodies, stacked like cordwood, and he saw disembodied boar's heads, in all their gore. My dad claims now that he gave up on life. He didnt believe that he would survive the night, and he gave up trying to fight it, if they were going to kill him, let them kill him. Get this terror over with. My dad is one of the strongest people I know. I have not seen him to be scared of anything, though he can be startled if you are quiet. This isnt reccomended, as my dads reflexes are still quite good, and he awakes with a closed fist. :)
Still... this percadan experience seems to be the scariest thing my dad has ever experienced. He relates it with a confused tone, as if trying to sort out what really happened verbally. Though as he recovered, this fear seemed to fade, I suspect that he was simply thinking to himself about the accounts, trying to sort reality. He asked the nurse whenever she brang pills what each and every one did. The nurses had thick accents, and so it was difficult for him to understand at times.

He lay awake all night. He hadnt slept for three days at this point, and was gettin the stupids severe, and my mom came to see him. It was morning. My dad saw images as real as life when he closed his eyes for any period of time. He lie trying to stay awake while my mother sat by his bed. I saw him the following day. He had slept a bit, but he was still weak, and hadnt slept a whole lot. I met his nurses, and some of the other patients in my fathers room. Next to him was an 85 year old Irish man with a lung infection, across from him was an elderly chinese man, and kitty corner was an asian man who had experienced a severe stroke almost a full year ago. All of them had the same scars on the chest, and varying degrees of leg scars. None of them were smokers. The other smoker on the floor was bill, who had quit in febuary, when he suspected something was wrong. He was obviously scared as well, and seemed to be high on some drug or another. My dad was taking tylenol extra strength to kill his pain, and the others on the floor were taking tylenol 3s and percacet. My dad seemed to be in the most pain, and was the weakest, except for the asian man across from him, who i saw leave his bed just once the whole time he was there.

I watched him get better little by little, and met a side of my dad I have never met before. He was not happy. He had a vague idea of what had happened to him in the operating room, and for the next two days, but he knew that without my mom, he wouldnt have made it. She was his courage during this whole ordeal, and their love touched me deeply. I did the best I could to ease his suffering, and sat there wishing that there was something I could do, other than comfort and wait. He developed two ulcers the following day, and bled alot through his stomach. That added to the amount he lost during surgery, and my dad has had all of his blood replaced. He has life through the kindness of strangers. I want to give blood. While I sat back and let others give blood, their actions ended up giving my dad life. I need to repay this debt.

Holy Shit. To make this bloggin thing really cool, im gonna have to review a little HTML, methinks. The tools are there, its just waitin fer the code to do it. Too bad I hate coding so bad that I have neglected my skills to the point of forgetting most of HTML class. Maybe I deserved that D after all. I wanna take ull advantage of the options here tho, and that means relearnin some code. Boo.

If You Click Anything Today... Click This One :)

First came across this two years ago, and the look has changed much since then.
42 on my third try! take that foo!

Haloween is tommorow, and I havnt thought about it at all. I used to get soooooo excited for halloween.

As a young child, walking with my mom, halloween meant free candy, as well as three or four unavoidable trips to houses of family and friends, to make sure they got a good look at our costumes. (Bearable really, but at the time it seemed a cruel punishment) I THINK I remember once going with my dad, but I would have been 3 or 4 years old at the time, and such a thing seems impossible now. He dressed up as an arab woman, with the long dress and the veil and all that. I was a martian that year, with green face paint and little attennas.

As I grew older, and was allowed to trick or treat at my own leisure, I learned the value of costume simplicity.
We tried to hit as many houses up for candy as possible, and worked up a sweat doin it. As a result, those latex masks with the tiny eye holes and matching pair of nostril hole, which were useless to begin with, became like IGA bags over the head. Not being able to breath hampers effective trick or treating. Ditto for makeup. Makeup smudges, and in addition to getting makeup all over the place, you now have a shitty costume. Noone wants to be that kid with the shitty costume. Like the ghetto kids.
Now that I think of it, visiting the homes of those we thought were rich people didnt yeild better candy, as we had been led to believe by those who lived on that side of town. True, that area of town maybe once gave out cans of pop and full chocolate bars, but if they did, they learned quick, and gave out the ole rockets and caramels and suckers. We used to get the odd bag of popped corn, or candy apple, or bible pamplet, and we always took em anyway. Mostly tossed em at the house after, but we always took em.
For a brief period of time, prior to getting sloshed and going to highschool dances, and post candy collection, we went out anyway to cause shit. Because thats what we thought we were supposed to do. Smashing things and egging houses are always fun, but believing that youre supposed to be doing them is divine. My building locks and kids wont be comin downtown fer prime trick or treatin, so Im pretty sure Haloween is gonna suck.