Summer is quickly approaching and now is the time to turn this body into a shrine! I will work out everyday and by July I will ripped and tanned, awed by each and every beach goer. Actually being toned is fine. Who wants to be in perfect shape anyways? Way to much work to maintain. There are 13 steps to my bedroom, 21 to the coffee room at work. That should be good. If I start sitting to pee then I'd be doing like 6-8 squats a day. That sounds good. Hey, if I get desperate I could start smoking more. Coughing is good exercise. Maybe I'm pushing it too much. I didn't realize how much exercise I already did. In fact I think I might start sleeping downstairs to cut some steps out of my day.

The Word Gullable Isn't In The Dictionary

Remember when you were young and your parents told you to never accept candy from a stranger? In hindsight, I think there were some underlying values I should have carried forward to my adult life. Never have I ever accepted something so blindly as I did that cold and early morning.

When my alarm goes off at 4:15 for my morning shift not much goes through my head. It's too cold to get out of bed and it takes a few minutes to get the brain into full throttle. I'm so tired! Work, I hate work. Piss, work, ugh, brush teeth, work, i hate work, coffee, work, keys, wallet, phone, fuck work. Eventually I do make it out door and drive to work but running only on 15yrs instinct, no real thought required.

As if waking up at an ungodly hour wasn't bad enough when I get to work my job is to face. A job created for Neanderthals, not modern the day human. Four hours of pulling cans forward and spinning English isn't really my idea of stimulating. As I struggled to keep my eyes open my co-worker noticed my struggles and offered some assistance.

Kent: You look tired buddy!

Me: Yeah, I only had about three hours sleep yesterday.

Kent: Here, take a couple of these they'll get ya going.

Well, Mr. Gullable here took the two pills out of Kent's hand assuming they were wake-ups or something along those lines and downed them with a coffee. No sooner than I swallowed the pills and took a gasp of air was Kent laughing so hard I swear I smelt shit.

Kent: Have a fun day Bud, those weren't wake-ups those were EX-LAX!!

ME: You're shitting me!?!?

Kent: You'll be shitting your self here in a few minutes!

Sure enough, within a half hour I felt a rumbling like no other. A rumbling that lasted for a good six hours of my day. I have never felt so drained in my entire life and I've tried LSD. You think the last three hours of an acid trip are tiring and draining? Try pooping out half your body weight! Four rolls of toilet paper, and two tubes of Prep-H later the BM's subsided and was able once again to integrate with society. Never again will I blindly accept anything from anyone! There was that one time though when Jodi told be he had liquid acid in his Visine bottle...

Bad Bad Gaga

Remember when it was all about the music? Not about camera compatibility, the costume malfunctions, nor the bumping and grinding. When the music industry wasn't controlled by the pre-teens. We now live in the world of Gaga. Gaga has shown the recipe for success and record label management is eating it up. Her rise to fame can be contributed to her outfits and antics more than the music. Though I must admit I have been caught walking the aisles at working humming,"Stop calling, Stop calling, I don't wanna talk anymore" or maybe a lil "Pa Pa Pa Pokerface, Pa Pa Pokerface"!

Bad Gaga. No longer can you flip on MuchMusic or MuchMoreMusic without seeing young women dressed up in Halloween costumes, and I ain't talking bout Frankenstein or Uncle Fester. More like Elvira on PCP. Flipping thru the channels the other day and I see some chick dancing around a bird cage, certainly under the influence of some narcotic. I ask my fiance who this slutty little girl is and it was no other than Miley Cyrus. Oh Billy Ray, your achy breaky palpitating heart! I suppose if anyone is going to take advantage of your daughter it might as well be you. Who knows exactly how much he collects being Miley's manager. That must ease the heartburn a bit.

Today's icons musical prowess is so lacking they have been forced to entertain us with more than just music. What happened to the days of Janet and Paula when it was about busting a move?Like a funky tap dance or some hair flipping. I dunno, I guess I'm just ole fashioned. Its a little hard to listen to a 16yr old Justin Bieber sing about love. WTF is Bieber gunna do when his voice starts cracking, wearing banana hammocks and smoking pole to keep the ratings? Hey, it worked for Lambert. But the worst offender has be Ke$ha. I wish I had a 12yr old daughter that could listen to Ke$ha sing about wanting her men to talk less and fuck more;

"Coming out your mouth with your blah, blah, blah
Zip your lips like a padlock and meet me at the back
With the jack and the jukebox

I don't really care where you live at
Just turn around, boy, let me hit that
Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat
Just show me where your dick's at

Music starts, listen hot stuff
I'm in love with this song
So just hush, baby, shut up
Heard enough

Stop, talk, talk, talking that blah, blah, blah
Think you'll be getting this nah, nah, nah
Not in the back of my car, ah, ah
If you keep talking that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah

Boy, come on give me rock stuff
Come put a little love it my glove bag
I wanna dance with no pants on
Meet me in the back with the jack and the jukebox

So cut to the chase kid
'Cause I know you don't care what my middle name is
I wanna be naked but you're wasted

So on and so forth, blah blah blah.

She is lucky she put that single out when she did, I was working on a song of the same title. It was about getting sick after a night of drinking alone watching Girlicous videos. Damn they're hot!

Hobo V2.0

There was a time when being homeless had character. When standing out in those cold wet nights meant something. You felt proud and on top of the world. You owned this town Pete the Bum. An old high school wise tale once told a story of a young man named Pete who came from a wealthy family. But Pete was disgusted by money and the way it controlled society. So Pete left home and never returned, leaving only with the clothes on his back. Fast forward 30 some odd years and Pete is still here today. Not quite as mobile as he once was but still seen in the familiar places. Never saying a word unless spoken to. Never begging or asking for anything, just accepting what is given. My Dad did offer to buy him a beer once.

"You wanna beer Pete?"

"Canadian, tall can."

Everyone has their favorites...

It is now 2010 and Pete is no longer alone. The streets that he once walked alone under the moonlit sky are scarred with a new breed. There are now legions of homeless, behind every nook, every cranny. Waiting for you to take your last sip of pop. With ears like wolves they can hear a change purse open 40 car stalls away. You thought the Girl Guides are an aggressive bunch? They got nothing on these guys. Peter has some major competition, and the competition is stiff. Hobo V2.0. Its is a newly evolved hobo. You know in Terminator 2 when that liquid dude has his way with Arnold for an hour and a half only to fall in a vat of molten steel? Yeah, kinda like that.


Scientists have yet to been able to define this new breed. How have they become so strong? Is the meth and the crack(nothing like tweaking for a few hours to help the brainstorming process)? Is it because many of the new breed are from the big city, with new, ground breaking strategies? Or is it just the evolution of a species? We all have to adapt to our environment and maybe this was a long time coming for the street walkers. Maybe they needed that extra little kick in the ass from the drugs.


I myself am not sure if its the drugs or evolution but the gadgets these people come up with now just amaze me. No longer is a shopping cart, a tarp, and a bottle of cheap liquor enough. Nor do the homeless shelters, the free handouts, and dumpster dives suffice. Now there are shopping cart after shopping cart tied together with old electrical wiring.Up to 3-4 tied together and being pulled by the newest fad of the new age hobo. The chopper bike. We all know how the obsession homeless have with shiny things, especially metal. Well they have turned this obsession into an art. Some of these guys bikes are almost 20 feet in length!



Talking to a homeless guy the other day I noticed he had a radio duct taped to he front of his bike blasting tunes.

"Where you get batteries to run this thing all the time?" I ask

"Steal em." he replies as matter of fact.

I spend alot of my time working the night shift so I get spend considerably more time with these "night owls" and have seen and heard some amazing stuff. They are like a pack of coyotes, working together to trap their prey. Everyone in the pack has a job and if all the cogs work together they are unstoppable. Buddy with the custom deck on his chopper bike must have stolen enough batteries for his entire pack. The other night I was on break having a smoke when I heard something unusual. Even for 3:30am.

*crackle* " I'm in position, lets me know when its safe!"*crackle*

Dead silence......

*crackle* "I see him! Hear he comes! Get in and get out!"*crackle*

Not one second after that last crackle from the Walkie Talkie did I see a homeless man run and dive into the donation hamper full of clothes. You could hear his accomplice whispering updates to the diver on the whereabouts of the security guard.

*crackle* " He just turned around, you have about 1 min!" *crackle*

I could hear the rustling in the bin get louder and panicked. Soon after, the hobo emerged with an arm full of jackets, shoes, dresses, hats. Anything he could get his hands on. Just as quickly as he arrived he was gone, riding away under the moonlight on his chopper. Shopping cart rattling behind carrying more possessions than I myself own. Now if this new use of technology is not evolution at its finest you can kick me square in the junk.

Is it not acceptable to sit in front of the liquor store and rely on peoples good will? Must he the 21st century hobo adapt?

Still to this day Pete can be seen in front of numerous liquor stores in town, not begging or asking for a thing but in fact just sitting and excepting what comes his way. Rarely do you hear a word from Pete as he sits there in his wheelchair, observing the busy world around him. Silently staring, probably thinking we are the crazy ones. With all this chaos and change in the world around us it is good to see someone has stuck to their roots as the world evolves around them.

Some people just take 2-ply for granted I suppose.

I don't know about you but I take my ass wiping VERY seriously. Depending on location one may be using a low sandpaper grade or if their cards were played right, the luxurious silky feeling of the ethereal 3 ply. This inconsistency of a good wipe has I'm sure been the catalyst for many domestic abuse cases as well as a direct correlation with divorce rates. Many hates crimes and senseless violence can be contributed to this plague. An atrocious decline in paper quality has forced a legion of workers across Canada to bring their own toilet paper(TP) to work.

Over the last few years as companies try to save money and lower their budgets. They have to make sacrifices to lower their operating costs. But has one ever heard of such a devil that lowers TP quality to save a buck?!?! Year after year the TP less resembles cotton, more and more parchment paper. For those that don't know parchment paper is, its that shit (no pun intended) your mom puts the fresh peanut butter cookies on. A grade down from wax paper. No more do you actually wipe yourself clean than you paint abstract art on your ass. Thus began the BYOR(bring your own roll). Now, packing a roll in your locker isn't all that uncommon.

Dave: Hey Dennis. Cashmere? Niiice.

Me: Uh yeah, thanks Dave.

Dave: Is That a BYOR or did you find that here?

Me: I found it here. I know, score.

Dave: Totally! Enjoy.


Myself and fellow co-workers have been degraded to hobos, looking for any damaged bundle of toilet paper to scavenge a roll and hoard it in our lockers. Most days the best one can find is the 2-ply but oh my when fate puts that ripped case of the Purex Cashmere right in front of your face! It wasn't until I hit my 30's that I truly learned to appreciated a good 3-ply. No longer is wiping a chore. It is now a privilege. Nor is it a right any more than an indulgence?... I think that's a different blog.

Due to the economy, hardly can we afford top end wipe so I have been forced to the unthinkable. Thanks to Activia I have know manipulated by BM's to arise only during a shift. Jamie Lee Curtis is right, that shit works! No longer will I be forced to sacrifice the wipe, render my ass to an inferior product!



Supermart
To: All Staff Members
From: Management
May 12, 2010
Re: Men and Women's Washrooms


We regret to inform all employees (other than management) that they no longer have access to the company washrooms. We can no longer afford the cost of running them for our customers let alone our employees! We have dug a hole about 100yards behind the store in the back of that public park, just please ask a manager for permission to relieve yourself when you feel the urge. Thank you for your co-operation. As a token of our gratitude the company will be supplying Welfare Brand toilet paper for all employees.

Regards,
Management.



Wow! The grocery business has really declined...

An Introduction

I am, the Oneleggedman. Many of you will think to yourselves," Damn that must really bite only having one leg!" But alas, the jokes on you. I do in fact have both my legs and both my arms.

I live my life like I like my food, greasy, unhealthy and bland. Like most people on this earth I like to make my life as difficult as possible by putting minimal effort in most things I do. Whats the saying? "Bacteria is sometimes the only culture some people have"? No that doesn't work. "A man without ambition is like a bird flying without directions"? Yeah, that sounds about right. Just like exercising or quitting smoking. The first few days you are so jacked about this life altering choice you are making but by the end of the week you are sneaking drags of smokes or honey crullers from your co-workers and friends.

Between my redundant job and my love for THC there is no room for forward progress or enthusiasm. Its funny, I would love all the toys and gadgets in the world but I don't want to work for them. If only Santa and the rest of his league WERE real and I was a good boy every year, not the sarcastic asshole I am. Then Santa would fulfill all my materialistic needs! Easter and Halloween would supply my nutrition, and the birthdays, family dinners, and weddings would round out anything I need for sustenance. Brilliance! Excuse me while I type my letter of resignation to my employer...

A tip for you male wedding goers. It is always a good idea to bring a date of the female persuasion to a wedding. It just looks fucked if you're stuffing food and party favors in a purse when people know you showed up alone. You must show up with a female for this to work! I have learned from experience this is the only way a man can get away with carrying a purse or handbag unless you reside on Davies street.

As my first blog comes to a close I want to remind you all to enjoy the small things in life. Free food samples at the grocery store, free booze samples at the liquor store, and free money at the.......well 2/3 ain't bad!