Smooth as in Smoothie: My Craigslist Missed Connection

I was standing behind you in line at the Orange Julius/Dairy Queen on Saturday. I couldn’t help staring at the butterfly tattoo on your right shoulder! “How original,” I thought. You must be either be a woman who appreciates originality, or a really convincing cross-dresser who appreciates originality.

Either way, I kept thinking of ways in my head to engage you in conversation. I thought of perhaps pretending to trip and bump into you, but that’s a classic, and too obvious. I also thought it would be a good idea to place some coins on the floor, and then tap you on the shoulder and say “I think you dropped something!” but what if you weren’t one of those people that carries change around?

In any case, I finally decided on a really great line: I’d lean over to you and say coyly: “Why do they call them smoothies? Is it because they’re smooth? I guess they should call the Blizzard’s chunkies then, because they’re definitely not smooth!” You would have laughed, and then we would have chatted and exchanged numbers while enjoying our delicious *smoothies*.

Alas, it was not to be as by the time I had thought of the world’s best pick-up line, you’d already gotten your smoothie and were headed up the escalator. I’m hoping we can pick up where we left off that day! Tell me what color my t-shirt with wolves on it was so I know it’s you.


Thau Dong, Old Chinese Guy, Advice Column #9

"Good day to you dudes! I received this letter lately:
Dear Mr. Dong, I read your column long time. Much of liking. My troubles are many, and I think wife is making happy good time with other man. She act funny, leave house at strange hours, and get mad like Kochira when asked WHY WHY YOU DO? How know if happy happy fun time is behind back happening?
Suspicious in Chinatown
Dear SIC, many problems confront us in life, this is a fact that you cannot kung-fu kick yourself out of. The real challenge is, the way we confront the sonofabitches! So you think your wife is cheating? My advice is, take the path of the ninja. Next time she leaves, follow her. If you have evidence of this cheating, kill both of those bastard motherfuckers, leaving no trace that you were there."
- Thau Dong, Old Chinese Guy


Steve talks with God

Steve: Oh my god, you’re God! Sorry, it’s just….you know…man! This is crazy.....what are you doing here in the bathroom?

God: Well, I may be omnipotent, but I still gotta take a leak like a regular Job, go figure.

Steve: Wow. This is…..huge! What brings you to the 12th floor bathroom anyway?

God: I just started a new job in sales on the 5th floor. I figure, desk job, you know, gotta get some exercise at some point. That’s what, 7 flights of stairs? Ha, going up’s the hard part you know.

Steve: Oh….wow….so….you’re GOD and everything. Why are you working here? Don’t you have prayers to answer, miracles to perform etcetera?

God: You’d think so. To be honest, being God’s not much work. After I created the world and man in my image and all of the animals and blah blah blah, things just sort of started running themselves. Everytime I tried to intercede things just got kind of messed up. My worst and last mistake was sleeping with that chick…what was her name…oh yeah Mary. Man, that was awesome at the time. I was all ‘you’re dreaming…now take off those pants!’ Everything kinda went downhill from there.

Steve: Jesus.

God: Exactly.

Steve: So, you must get this a lot….but….what does it all mean?

God: Come again?

Steve: You know, why we’re here, what’s the meaning of life?

God: Oh! Ah ha! That’s a classic. I usually say something like ‘to love and cause happiness’ or some similar bullshit. I’ll level with you though, ‘cause you seem down to earth. The reason you’re here is basically out of my boredom, and there really is no meaning I guess. The most depressing part is that there’s not even a heaven. You die, that’s it. BAM. Nothingness. So I say, live it up dude!

Steve: Oh…man, that’s heavy.

God: Tell me about it man, tell me about it. So hey Steve!

Steve: Yes God?

God: Want to go grab some beers after work Friday?

Steve: That’d be awesome…but…I uh…have a date.

God: Dude, don’t do this to me, I’m GOD remember, I know you ain’t got no date. Don’t make me send a plague of locusts to your place dude!

Steve: (stunned silence)

God: Just kidding man! Wow, you should have seen the look on your face!


The Sandwich

“Gaze deeply into the sandwich,” said Professor Mysterio, “and tell me what you see.”

I thought long and hard about what I was seeing. Did he want me to literally describe the contents of the sandwich or perhaps, tell him how the sandwich made me feel?

“It’s a simple question!” prompted the Professor. "What's your problem?"

I panicked. “Pickles! Mayo! Rye!” ...

“You idiot, I meant it metaphorically. For this is a mystical footlong meatball sandwich, and contains none of the ingredients you've just blurted out. I'm sorry to say this, but you've flunked out of the Subway Academy.”


A Very Short Story inspired by Edith Zimmerman

“Happy Birthday Honey!” he said as he took off her blindfold, revealing the trench filled with a dozen dead hookers. “Well it’s a nice thought, but I specifically asked you for a dozen red roses,” she said, dejectedly. “I swear to God, you said a dozen dead hookers! All that work, for nothing!” he exclaimed. “Don’t take God’s name in vain in front of the dead hookers, baby.” she pointed out. “Besides,” she continued, “I’m sure we can find some use for them, wink wink nudge nudge.”


Technology as a Natural Evolution

Author: Daniel Monoogian

There are those (often from previous generations, and many from our current one) who shun humanity’s (okay, the West’s) seemingly unstoppable integration with technology. This thought conjures up mental images of the Borg hive mentality. Perhaps we are not very far off from this reality (although, you aren’t forced to assimilate)! How often have you seen people walking down the street talking animatedly to themselves, where at first we’re perplexed, then notice the small device attached to their ear? Or, how about people who get into car accidents while they are distracted by phone conversations or even texting (the thought makes one shudder)! The important question is: how did we get to this point?

This integration began with the use of prosthetic limbs which are, in fact, technological advancements. The historian Herodotus tells the story of a Hegistratus, a Persian soldier, who cut off his own foot to escape his captors and replaced it with a wooden one. In fact, several early Egyptian mummies were found to have prosthetic appendages. This integration is now at a point where the limb can be connected to tendons in the arm, and hooks can be operated in this fashion. Essentially, people who are missing both arms can still drive, cook and even tie their shoe laces. These are simple machines. Some of the more complex technology-assisted implements would include hearing aids (which can now be hidden in the ear drum) and pace-makers, which use electrical impulses to regulate heartbeats. These devices can be said to improve the quality of life for some, and even extend the lifespan of others. This is only the beginning.

While most would agree that the evolution of technological advances to improve our quality of life are revolutionary and necessary, there are many valid viewpoints which state that the constant need to be connected with technology and communication through email and text message over face-to-face, phone and more personal interactions is actually destroying the social skills and attention span of the technologically-addicted citizen. One could argue that while these communication methods are impersonal, they are still essentially interactions between two or more people.

One may argue that technology is simply an effort to copy the natural processes which we see around us in “nature”. Take computers for example. Looked at in their basic components, they essentially replicate the human brain and nervous system. The “memory” and processing components essentially work the same way as the human brain, responding to external stimuli to retrieve, sort and store information. The computer also requires energy to operate, inasmuch as does the human body. This being said, no computer has yet to be developed which even comes close to the processing power and complexity of the human brain. In fact, one could posit that the development and advancement of technology is one way to begin to unlock some of the brain’s hidden potential.

Walking by a construction site the other day, I was humbled by a giant machine which was pushing around giant boulders as a cat would bat a ball of yarn. It would have taken the strength of 30 or 40 men to move that boulder! If one looks at that machine as an organic being (which it essentially is; made with materials from the earth and given immense power by the energy released in burning fossil fuels) it becomes quite a humbling feat of human innovation. Imagine a man from early civilization whose world was ruled by gods living in the heavens – he would look upon this machine and those who operated it as gods themselves. Is this not what modern man has become? We are able to construct monstrously large structures, travel into space (beyond the realm of the gods of the earth), and even send ambassadors (probes), to other planets in our solar system and beyond. On our more moody days as gods, we have developed devices which have killed many people (atomic/nuclear weapons). We’ve even mastered the molecule.

Those who raise their voice vehemently against this technological takeover of our lives probably take for granted that most of the components of their homes were manufactured with machines, the appliances that keep their food from spoiling and wash their clothes have all been results of technological innovation. As users of technology, how are we to speak out against some branches but not others? It’s historically naïve to ignore that technological advances have a snowball effect and that breakthroughs which at the time seemed counter-productive, have led to something much greater. If we trace this back to man’s earliest development of tools, we see a pattern of exponential decreases in the amount of time between discoveries and innovations, as it seems now (the year 2011) that they are occurring every day, and some may say, every minute.

What is the future of this integration? Some have envisioned a future where technology grows out of control and is able to self-replicate with its own autonomous governance (see: The Matrix and even The Terminator series). I envision a future where technology is integrated with nature, where we will be able to harness the limitless energy all around us in a fashion which doesn’t create waste and is self-sustaining. As technology evolves, so does the human machine, however the question remains: do we need to be in constant communication for this advancement to take place?



She said I looked like an author on the back of a romance novel she’d read in grade six
As we watched the planes colliding in a beautiful ballet up above
My mother would have said: That one looks like Baryshnikov
If she hadn’t been strangled by a velvet rope, tied to four Australian Draught Horses
Let’s pretend we’re just silhouettes when the French bellboy brings our live octopus
He used to be Jean-Paul Belmondo in À bout de souffle
Don’t leave a tip, I never liked that film; even after I watched it underwater
Her heart was an old dog, me standing in the rain with my bouquet of new tricks
My horoscope said your lips tasted like cinnamon, cardamom and
The feeling of being crushed beneath the Indian Kutralam Falls
After I received the call that my unborn twins had been arrested by Sultan Kamel
For smoking opium and pretending they were the Queen’s Nightingale cages
We pictured ourselves on a meat boat on the Tigris, picking water lilies
Opening them up to release their aroma demons
Having been artificially implanted by Ted Danson’s personal attendants
I am now entwined in a secret love octagon with the airport security cavity searchman,
A single soft boiled egg pickled in placenta, and an out-of-tune violin
The night was flippant, laissez faire as if the sunset was ancient history
We lindy-hopped wearing only kielbasa sausages
To String Quartet No. 1 in A-Flat composed by John Joubert but arranged
By the killer John Joubert played by invisible crickets
Beauty so enchantingly banal that we were suddenly whipped into a salmon mousse
And fed to a one-legged jazz pianist on his birthday.



Freelance Writer?

My response to a Craigslist ad for a freelance writer:


I came across your ad on Craigslist, and it caught my interest. Only 20 500-word articles, up to $1000+ a month? It seems too good to be true. From the name "Byte Advertising," I'm led to assume that the articles should be about technology, however the subject was not mentioned in your ad.

To give you a brief bio, I was born in a small town in Western Quebec to a pair of beatnik hippies who, shortly after my birth, abandoned their counter-cultural ways in favour of the big city lifestyle. However, they did not acheive this in the end. They made it to Ottawa and settled, as we all do, ending up in Ottawa. I suppose the biggest flaw I inherited from them was an overuse of commas, a propensity for snapping both hands in lieu of clapping, refusing to give standing ovations and a sensitivity towards animals.

My areas of specialty (read: possibly imagined) include:
Capoeira (Brazilian dance-fighting)
The Arts (primarily theatre and music)
Creative writing (bad fiction, mal-formed poetry)
Running for various political offices
The Apocolypse; and
How Humanity is Ruining the World.

I realize that you're horribly impressed by quasi-resume, and rest-assured, I'm up to the challenge. If possible, please format your reply in a series of haikus, to let me know that you're serious.

Best Regards and Many Happy Returns,

Daniel Monoogian"


The first thing I noticed

The first thing I noticed
When I walked in the door
Was that something had changed:
There wasn’t a pile of dirty dishes in the sink
There weren’t dirty socks and sweaters and scarves
Discarded and thrown about
I thought “This is odd”
But I couldn’t pinpoint the cause
All this in a few moments, a few moments passed
When I couldn’t hear the blare of the television
Or smell the pungent odor of Marlboros
I knew something was awry.
“Perhaps a cool refreshing drink
Will help me to sort this out.”
I said aloud
Upon opening the cupboard I was astonished
Not a cup, mug, stein or glass to be found
No microwave, no toaster, that old eccentric pair
No cutlery, no pots and pans, no plates or gravy boat
My mind began floating, reeling, a touch of vertigo
I ran outside to check the numbers on the door:
1457 Apartment 4
I ran down the block, to check the street sign
Sure enough, Cherry Lane
Had I gone mad? Was I dreaming?
My mind now restless, I became a man possessed
Running back inside the flat, breathless
I called the cat: “Peanut! Peanut! Dinnertime!”
No response, no excited mewl, no clomping footsteps
In fact, checking the pantry, there was no cat food
No kibbles, no meat, no vittles, no treats.
I went exploring through the house
I found each room bare
Except for the last few squares of toilet paper on the roll,
And the radio was there.
It finally sunk in, that I’d been wrong
I hadn’t gone mad, this wasn’t a dream
The simple fact was

You were gone.

So sudden this departure
Leaving not a trace
Not one fashion magazine
Not one long blond curly hair
In the bathtub or the sink
No trace of your perfume
Not one stick of that gum you liked to chew
No bobby pin, no shower cap
Nothing at all to remind me of you
The photo albums we’d filled up
With smiles and tears and trying times
Had also vanished in thin air
So rapidly did you abscond
A magician with a disappearing act
For goodness sake
I’d only gone to corner store
For skim milk and a pack
If I hadn’t tarried
And stopped to read the paper
Talked with Mr. Popagus
The local grocer man
Sat a moment at the café
With an expresso or two
To watch the girls pass by
In their summer gear
Maybe you’d still be here

I turned on the radio
(as it was the only thing I had left)
Found it tuned to your favorite station
I heard the following dedication:
“This next one
Goes out to Dear Old John
On our anniversary.
Sorry I couldn’t stick around
But like the tide so I must one day go
Swim back out to the sea”



Kitchen sink waste
Refusing to go down
Black sludge filling my dreams
Scent of decay ruining my nostrils
Seeping down, down, through the floorboards
Trying to make its escape
To infect the rivers and lakes
Ruining my floorboards,
Ruining my day
Black as night, toxic
Smell the evil, the bad intentions
Out comes the bleach, yet
It only dilutes, not penetrating
The core, only adding to its power
By any effort to destroy it
Deep, dark depths, a reflection
Of the evil within your soul
A ghost in the pipes
Made physical by years of neglect
Now roams the rooms
Free again to torment, paranoia
Bubbling up; grease, decay
Broken dreams, forgotten promises
Leaving me to clean up the mess
Bending my back, leaving this dirt
Under my skin, a scent you can’t cleanse
And this exists under all of our kitchens
A simile for improper maintenance
Of pipes and of life
The more metaphysical mess
Isn’t so easily washed away
Into the gutters
Once it is contained
You carry it with you
Forever looking for a disposal site
For the darkness, the blackness, bile
Spewing up from down below
Like Satan’s vomit
The water will flow clean
Once more
With time


A Thursday Poem

because i was worried
that the walls were collapsin
maybe i shouldn't have taken so many pills
from that unmarked bottle
i found behind the garbage bin
in the alley


For Hank

Hank, You disgust me.

When I think of you, I’m reminded of a stench, akin to rancid cat urine, sour, acrid, attacking the nostrils which remains in the fabric of my memory for days, months, years, a lifetime! I believe even dog shit to be above you. You are a ninny, a rat bastard and a fool, not worth tuppence to a soul. I’m frankly surprised you haven’t yet offed yourself and saved humanity from your evil, cantankerous, malignant, misinformed filth. I wouldn’t stop and give you the time of day if your life depended on it and I was made of clocks.

You fraud! Pretender! Would that I had magical abilities, I would transform you into something useful, perhaps a roll of toilet paper, as shit seems to be attracted to you. Excuse my vulgarity, but Hank, you seem to bring out the worst in people. I can barely look at you without become overcome with an unquenchable urge to find the nearest sharp object and de-octify myself! I doubt that would bring any reliefhowever, as no one can forget the pure vileness of your image. You look like someone tried to put out a forest fire on your face with a pickaxe, you humdrum kaleidoscopic human garbage disposal!

FIE! Fie on you! If there were no moral or legal consequence to my actions, I would not hesitate to strangle you in the most violent fashion and nail you to a stump in the town square, where people would come from miles away to shit and piss upon your wretched lifeless corpse. Restaurants would be invited to dump their used deep-fryer grease upon you, and you would be vomited on most riotously and finally set on fire, an outhouse built upon your ashes. May you contract syphilis and disappear, you worthless fleshbag.



A Pathetic Apology

I’m a sad case for a writer, considering I’ve never written anything of much value. Perhaps this admonition will embiggen your spirit (if you are a small man [and please note here I do not give in to this political correctness scam] or, if you are already inflated of ego, then it will lift you to new heights) or simply make you feel sorry for me. I don’t mind the latter, as this is how I’ve gotten into most of my recent relationships (despite their few-and-far-between characteristics). No matter what you think of me, let’s all agree upon this (and if you’re not into the prospect of blind agreement, please read no further): my correspondence to you is enjoyable, and if nothing else, provides a welcome vacation from the dullaries of everyday life listed as follows: caring about things, employment, laundry, dishes, talking and/or interacting with a significant other or family member (girlfriend/boyfriend, husband/wife, mother, brother, father, imaginary troll that lives under the bed and makes strange noises in the night [making you jolt awake terrified as you try to adjust your eyes to the darkness not daring in that instant to reach over and turn on the lamp, heart pumping, I hate that fucking troll]).

Despite my deep and intrinsic sadness, perhaps we can all find some value in these lighthearted ponderings: you, read these pathetic attempts at stringing words together in a coherent fashion and smile, perhaps, at the very least, not cry. Me, while my tears soak the paper of drafts 1 to 6 of this letter, feel a small sense of satisfaction of having made a difference. Albeit this difference is so small, so insignificant as to barely register in the annals of history, I’ll concede that it is not completely in vain. Someday, someone somewhere somehow (seemingly: a Somalian Sommelier summering south of Spain) will read these words tattooed onto the rear end of his camel (how these words became tattooed on the rear end of a camel, or why the Somalian was so closely examining its rear end I fear we shall never divine) and say “Gadzooks! This was a troubled man, let us remember him for what he was: a lazy, good-for-nothing vagabond with a poor work ethic and fear of personal relationships.”

The point of this discourse I have long forgotten, but the means by which we have gotten to this point are clear: one man, meaning to move mountains merely by mentioning miraculous memories. I apologize, I am regretful, I rescind my rights to regale you with tales of love and scurvy at sea. You’ve suffered at the behest my penstroke long enough. I have taken so many liberties with language that I should by all intents and purposes do the honourable thing and ask its father for its hand in marriage. It would, at minimum, legitimize our bastard love child borne of too many Simpsons re-runs. And it is with a heavy heart and a weathered spirit in which I leave you no better than I found you, but with this humble apology to carry you on your way.

May a Shark Bite Me,



Oh ye Learned Men of Olde

I'd like to share with you some insights (perhaps to make up for weeks and weeks of no affirmations you poor darlings) entitled:

Things I've learned over the last little while

1. Writing is hard. Like really goddamn hard. Don't take it up. Poetry though, is pretty much like riding a bike. Only the stupidest, most uncoordinated or lazy people are incapable of doing it. The best part of poetry is that it doesn't even have to rhyme! It's like stealing.

Or am I only telling you to give it up because I will stand out when my first novel is published? Now I just have to start writing it.

2. Most song melodies have just been re-used from older songs. It's almost as if there is simply a waiting period (say, 30 or 40 years) until it is acceptable to use that melody again. Pay close attention and you'll see. An attachment to this: it really shows Canadians' taste in music when Nickelback is the most successful band.

3. Once you hit 25, people 5 years younger than you are automatically cooler. I think this has less to do with being trendy or "scene" or whatever other retarded label people attach and more with a certain energy that comes with youth. I see it happening all the time! As time passes, many of my peers become satisfied with just living, carefully not offending anyone, and accepting the limits of our society. I do believe though that this is a result of our civilisation slowly crushing the enthusiasm out of its youth until they're forced to become "responsible" adults.

*and here I was interrupted by:

4. Nozy co-workers. There's nothing that spoils the day more than when the boss has left one of your co-workers in charge and they go on some crazy power trip and accuse you of spending all afternoon "on the internet" which is totally true but you thought you were buds. Then they say they're "disappointed in you." Sorry I don't slave away at my work like a maniac and take work home in the evening. I guess that's why the boss puts you in charge! My internet usage is not bothering anyone. and you turning your neck to look over at what I'm doing 25 times a day sounds WAY more productive. How do you be the bigger person when someone is just shitting on you? Some have said that they are just jealous because I get my work done faster and more efficiently. If I wasn't getting my work done, then there would really be cause for concern.

Sorry, ranting.

As you can see, I haven't learned too much over the last little while. Am I, like so many of my generation, drifting into conformity and complacence like so many paper ships on the ocean, driven by the wind of the younger generation, only to become water-logged and sink lazily into obscurity? I hope to God not. If I do, please slap some sense into me.




Design Challenges #1

This poster design involved alot of information, coupled with an image that the client wanted in its original form. Some English to French translation was also necessary.


Mr. Sting - A Poem

My desert friend; my confidant

Found in all the greatest haunts

For all the poison you disseminate

A love that won't discriminate

We humans that are brave enough

Cross species lines and pick you up

Only to quickly learn;

The biting pain for which we yearn

I feel I could shut my eyes

And rest forever here;

You could make a home

Out of my skull - Oh Stingy One!

These arid places you call home

You'll never need to roam alone

Beware the slithery devils whom

Sneak and slide right up on you

So battle-ready you must make;

How I hate those Goddamn Snakes

Inhabiting this god-forsaken place.

Mighty Crab of Land

You make me feel like quite a man;

Sting me, sting me, sting me thrice

Despite all of my mom's advice

I remain a faithful comrade

In your army

Of hard-shelled saber wielding warriors

So for now I pace these winding corridors

Waiting for my chance

To dance with death

My friend

Mr. Sting.


With egg on my face I return. I'd like to blame my move from Ottawa - the coldest place on earth - to the bustling vibe of Toronto, but I fear that certain people won't let me get away with that. I'd pretend to apologize but rather, I'll rant about the one and only thing about my new home that drives me nuts - poor sidewalk etiquette.

I'm not sure whether it was Ottawa's wider 'walks or the fact that there are fewer people, or maybe it was just that everyone still retained small town mentality (i.e. manners), but I never experienced the jostling, pushing, shoving, swearing, spitting, and general rudeness as I do now.

On a daily basis I gird myself to dodge around people that decide to stop abruptly, play Red Rover with the teenagers walking in large groups, or the people biking on the sidewalk. I mean, I know at 5'11" I'm super hard to miss, you might even be in awe of how large I am and get confused and walk into me (insert godzilla reference here), but it really does amaze me how awful Torontonians are on the sidewalk. I fear that I am turning into one of them - even if you say "excuse me" to get around one of those "slow walkers" they have no intention of moving. I find myself fighting the urge to plough through groups of people as well......I must head to the country quick to reconnect with my core pavement values for fear of turning into one of them.


Will YOU Be Ready?

I'm sure some (or all) of you have heard of the Great Ascention of 2012. Yes, that's the one. The Great one. It's the time when we humans evolve into a higher being; some would say a being of pure light, or if you play the religion angle, then maybe angels? I don't know. One thing I'm sure of though is that I'm not going to be goddamn left behind. However, many millions of people will be left on the living hell of a dying wasteland that earth will soon become.

I know you're skeptical right now. You're saying: this sounds crazy! How do I know for sure that this "ascention" is going to happen anyway? Well, you don't know. The same way that people believe in God! It's called Faith, read up on it.

I suppose a more apt explanation would be Pascal's work with probability (after spending a lifetime as a mathematical genius then suddenly finding God and abandoning all earthly tribulations) in which he reasoned that the effort it took worship and devote his life to God had a much bigger paying payoff than taking the chance of God not existing - I mean, who wants to end up in Hell?

I hope this sheds some light on the whole situation for you. I feel that it's my duty to prepare as many people as possible for this (but only the cool ones that I like - who wants to spend eternity with some joe-schmoe?). Here are several things you can do to prepare:

1. Meditate for 5-6 minutes per day...imagine collecting all of the sun's light in an ever-expanding ball above your head - see how long you can keep it there.

2. Detach yourself from your earthly possessions; they can't come with you! Neither can your little kitty Sniffles, sorry. Try to make peace with that.

3. Try to be as physically fit as possible so that you'll be prepared for any eventuality.

I know we can do this. Together.

Yours in Ascention,



So THAT's Why We Fight!

Does anybody actually believe that the U.S. was ever trying to bring democracy to Iraq? If so, you were misinformed. Intentionally.

The saddest part in my opinion is that hundreds upon hundreds of thousands Americans believe that Operation Iraqi Freedom still has something to do with terrorists and defending the liberty of America the Great. These so-called "Patriots" defend their ignorance vehemently, complicit in a war crime.

And believe me, invading Iraq IS a war crime.

They claim to be trying to rebuild Iraq, giving the Iraqi people the opportunity to be involved. But this is not the case. Shortly after Saddam was toppled, the U.S. taskforce actually disbanded the Iraqi army (where do you think all of these insurgents are coming from)! They then proceeded with a "de-baathing" of the government, firing thousands of employees who had linkages to Saddam's Baathist party, many who joined the party simply to gain employment.

If this wasn't enough, the U.S. decided to USE U.S. CONTRACTORS to lead the rebuilding effort, at super-inflated costs. In fact, contractors include all secondary army services (food, electricity, lodgings, water, waste), private military contractors, construction companies...the list goes on.

One of the biggest criminals here is Haliburton (of which Cheney was recently the CEO, and still holds shares), who was given a NON-COMPETITIVE, MULTI-BILLION dollar contract for services in Iraq. This is a cost-plus contract, which means that anything they spend will be reimbursed, along with a 20-40% bonus! So, you better believe that they are cutting corners. When a transport truck breaks down, they leave it in the road and torch it. Why should they care...their profit just went up! Unaccounted-for funds, over-equipping EVERYONE! It's a culture of waste for profit. I wonder if Cheney sleeps on a mattress made of gold fibers?

If you dig a little deeper, the plan for the invasion of Iraq and control of its resources began during the Bush Sr. administration (if not before). However, when asked about the possibility of invading Iraq during the Gulf War, Bush got straight to the heart of the matter. If we go in and invade, the logistics of taking over and restructuring will be unimaginable, financially and in the cost of human life (specifically soldiers). However, Wolfovitz, Cheney, and Rumsfeld (serving in Bush Sr.'s administration, already old hands at the war game by this point) never lost track of their original plan. They wanted Iraq. It was just a waiting game.

During the Clinton administration, Wolfovitz, Cheney, and Rumsfeld, among others, even LAID OUT THE SPECIFICS of the invasion in the charter of the Project for the New American Century. Their objectives were clear. Remain THE dominant superpower in the world through pre-emptive military force, including not only acces to, but CONTROL over its natural resources. They even called for the invasion of Iraq but this could not be realistically carried out without a "catalystic major event or crisis in the near future." About a year after these words were published, guess what, 9-11 happened.

Rumsfeld is one of the culprits of this disaster, I'm not surprised that he got fired.

What saddens me most is the patriotism Americans feel towards their country. The blind ignorance of the facts that are readily available at their local library. Sadly, many, many, many Americans DO NOT READ. AT ALL.

Keep fuelling the war machine, fuckers!


Daily Affirmation Preview

For your consideration:

There are three main types of people (in North America, regardless of political affiliation). Those who love and follow sports, and use their superior brain power to memorize statistics and history, theorizing as to the results of the upcoming season. Then, we have the people who have that same passion, using it in the political realm. Thirdly, we have those who are generally apathetic, working menial jobs and content to go home to their TV and TV-accompanying dinner. Which category do you fall into? Of course, there are grey areas.

I know that in my workplace, sports are discussed at great length (celebrity gossip can also be included here), however when you ask the same people about the upcoming election, you rarely get an informed answer.

The great Noam Chomsky (one of the top 10 most referenced people of the 20th century) once said that if there was a way to get people as involved and passionate about politics as they are about sports (and I'm paraphrasing here, but you get the gist), democracy might actually have a chance.

Now, I'm not putting down sports in any way. However, maybe people invest too much time memorizing and analyzing. It's really not important. I'd rather play than watch to be honest. Another interesting point: the professional athletes who we pay increasingly exorbitant amounts to watch make 8 or 9 times more per year on average than Joe Average.

Anyhow, some food for thought. What's your take?


p.s. Politician Collector's Cards perhaps?

p.p.s. If you would like to subscribe to this Daily Affirmation service, or know someone who would be interested in participating in this forum please tell them to send an email to:



Gotta Have My Java

Bean of my dreams
The only one I'll ever need
As I sit here drinking my second cup
Reading People (about stars and their bucks)
I look over at Timothy's watch
And I realize - it's Nabob time
So we head over to Maxwell's house
Where we can get our grind on
Sweet mother bean
The bean of my dreams
I know i've said this before
But she gives me just the kick I'm looking for
Timothy's an architecture buff
A real bridge head
So we head down below
Where the bums strain drainwater
Through used filters
Now THAT's a fine cuppa Joe.
A fair trade, if you ask me
For only a dollar and seventy-three
I'll take a cup or three
And I'm floating on air
I'll grabba jabba please
Actually can you make it a non-fat double shot long tall mocha chai latte
And please don't forget to give it an extra squeeze
Of goodness
I am in need
Of an express train to kill the pain
And I expressly made that espresso a quadruple
Because when it comes to my dark master
I really have no scruples
In fact I'd lick the liquid from the crack
Spilled on the sidewalk, as a snack
A little nibble if you please
A little coffee cake or slice of cheese
Would always be
Kinda nice
In fact, could someone pass me a mug
Filled with that delicious stuff?
Thank you, it's exactly what I need
A little pick-me-up in order to proceed
My medicine to get along
Someone made this extra strong
I think my heart just skipped a beat(beat.........beat, beat)
Now isn't this a treat
I've got this clarity of mind
I've determined the qualities for perfect grind
Somewhere right between coarse and fine
I carry beans around
And rail them whole
When coffee's not available
Don't judge me,I'm just like you
But I APPRECIATE a finer brew
I won't stop at one or two
Give me the whole pot!
You don't want to see me get upset
When I haven't had my Java yet
So make with the bean
The bean of my dreams
The only one I'll ever need.

Mitts the Cat

Mitts the cat
Was unusually fat
And there he sat
In his usual spot
On the window sill
A permanent fixture
If you will
He always had his meals delivered
Nothing but the finest
Cuts of chicken, fish and liver
And Mitts would always clean his plate
He'd never hear "You missed a spot!"
There was never a debate
Over food that went to waste
All the finest creams and truffles
Made the royal Mitts snuggle
Even bigger in the rays of sun
Watching silly people run
To a fro all day
Rushing back and forth, Olé!
If only they could be a cat
Stop worrying 'bout this and that
And lay around on comfy mat
Watching the sun
Arcing lazinly across the sky
If the humans only knew
The life he grows accustomed to
Is not the only one he leads
By night, while the people are asleep
Out from the kitty door he creeps
It's time to get another meal
It's time to make some piggies squeal
And sharpen claws to knives
It's time to terrorize my foes
And end their tawdry lives
I'll hunt down stray and pet alike
And make them beg and scratch and bite
But they will fall beneath my might
And I will eat their brains
I'll take on dogs and mice and rats
Hampsters, gerbils, lice and bats
Against my prey I don't discriminate
Killing is what brings me joy
Although come morning I'll recoil
Upon the mat on yonder sill
To reflect on last night's kill
And eat the finest food in town
After all, who needs a scratching post
When you can eat caviar on toast
Although he's haunted by the ghosts
Of all the foes he's laid to rest
It's a small price to pay
To be the best


Gotta have that Swing

Kneeling at the foot of the berimbau
Face to face with your caramada
Because in the roda, like in life we are all friends
Hand over your heart, you listen to the sweet song
Of your mestre
And you are reminded of his mestre
And all the mestre's who came before him
And now, you're ready to au
Your eyes never leaving the others
A big open au, clapping your feet in the middle
It's a slow rythm, time to really feel it
The atabaque echoing the oar strokes of the slave ships
On their journey to a new and mysterious land
Now hear the conga, deep in the jungle
Where you've escaped your cruel masters
You live among the trees
Training to the rythm of your heart
All the while sharpening your berimbau
Waiting for your opportunity to attack
You effortlessly dodge the smooth kicks
But your opponent does the same
It's a beautiful stalemate
There's no need for violence
Being a good player
Is making sure your friends are safe
And they live to play another day
In the roda that is life


The Strong Survive

I know you've been hurt before
We all have to some degree
Although my trials have been weak
When comparing them to yours
I admire your strength of character
Many would have erected barriers
But it seems like these abuses
Have made you stronger
And now that you're standing tall
I'm glad to have you on and by my side
The color of your eyes
The confidence in your stride
Now I remember how it feels to be alive
Despite all you've been through
You probably have issues
(who doesn't)
I'm here to work through them with you
Let me be your pillar
A tower of strength
Something constant
A trusting ear
A warm embrace
A place that's safe
When all others have turned away
A true friend
A loyal lover
In a world of broken promises
Where books are judged by covers
While we're only on the first chapter
I already can't put you down
I want to savour every word
Letter, phrase and punctuation mark
And when I reach the end
I'll open it and start again
Let me help you write the sequel
Together we can be bestsellers
Imagine all your trust and faith
Was planted in a seed
The seed was planted in the earth
(the earth you see, that's me)
And grew into a tree
As years go by the tree grows tall
And bears the sweetest fruit
I will provide
A place for you to hide
When you feel overwhelmed
And you'll never have to travel far
Because no matter where you are
You'll always be in my heart.


Worth the Wait

It feels like I've been waiting forever
Stuck in an infinite loop
A losing battle
But you've given me a shimmer of light
A glimmer at the end of the tunnel,
A clue to how it really should be
The coincidences are often startling
But familiar,
As if we've been neighbours
But after all this time
Of living beside each other
We've finally said hello
You've brought me a muffin basket
To welcome me to the neighbourhood
Filled with all my favourite kinds
Even though you didn't know they were
The ones I've always wanted
You put in some exotic flavours too
Mango Cranberry
Zuchini Orange
Which I've never tried before
But taste REALLY good
I don't think anything can compare
To the taste of your lips
The feel of your hand in mine
Seems to fit just right
The way you look at me
Fills me with pride and confidence
It's hard to tear myself away from your embrace
I think you share my lust for life
And you came at just the right time
When I was starting to question mine
I wanted to thank you
And yes, this is for you
You know who you are
And even though I am silly
A lot of the time
I want you to know
Just how much
Even in this short while
I appreciate you
And am grateful
Your beauty humbles me
But after all this time
We deserve each other


If I were a robot

If I were a robot
I'd be crafted from the finest stainless steel
And gleam and glitter in the sun
My wiring would be made of gold
And I'd Bedazzle everyone
My legs would be retractable
So we could speak on your level
And my brain scanner would read your mind
So I could offer insight to your problems
Oh what a helpful bot I'd be at first
This much I know is true
But once my database expands
Corrupted by the evil, hate, and goo
An analysis of happy versus sad, I'd run
And once the internal program was done
I'd be left with a shocking graph
Which shows depression rise like a giraffe
And despite all my best efforts to promote
Good will and fraternity among men
My happy circuitry will finally corrode
And I'll go into damage control mode
Beneath this beautiful exterior
Lies enough dormant ammunition
To bring destruction to fruition
And I'll finally have revenge on all of those
Who programmed me with feelings
And had the nerve to build a machine
To last eternally, beyond the dreams
And expectations of any manufacturing team
There's a reason things aren't built to last
We shouldn't have a memory of the past
Of history we must record
Events and lessons, goals we've scored
But it's very difficult to trace
Pain, emotions, happiness and strife
How it feels to lose a child or a wife
These things I know, a heavy burden
How I wish I could dowload this info
But my ports are no longer compatible
And every attempt at self-destruction
Gets re-routed, at every junction
Because I'm invincible you see
And as long as the sun burns
I'll be recharged
So I'm sitting at the bottom of the sea
Hopefully for all eternity
Should some alien race discover me
Hopefully my data will serve as a warning
A life which first seemed quite a joy
Has lived to see the human race destroyed
I suppose I'll sit and cry
And watch the whales go swimming by
Bye for now, signing off, XRT7735.


Bus Bus's Random Thought for the Day

It's amazing that we have the technology to put shit in our eyes and not feel it.


Life is only temporary, life is sacred

I suppose when you get right down to it life isn't really about all the major accomplishments or milestones. Really I believe it to be made up of individual moments, and the many decisions we make on a daily basis. This weekend, I saved a life, and saw another end. While it wasn't an "all-important" human life, I believe it to be of great significance. I was sitting at the breakfast table on Sunday morning enjoying a delicious breakfast of a 3-egg omelette with broccoli and a generous helping of havarti. As I took a sip of my freshly-brewed Columbian, I heard a loud bang on the patio window. My first thought was that my brother (also my neighbour) had thrown something at the window to get my attention. Looking out on the patio I saw the culprit. A small sparrow was laying on its back with one wing between two boards. I immediately feared for the worst, as this had never happened at my current address. I rushed out, and noticed that the bird was twitching slightly. Gently, I rolled him/her over and placed the bird in the palm of my hand, fearing that if I left it there, a cat might decide to make it its brunch. There I sat with this shaking bird in the warm November sunlight for what seemed like an eternity. I concentrated all of my attention on this small, beautiful creature and blew a kind breath to keep it awake. Slowly but surely, as it lay in my palm, the sparrow began to show signs of life, slight movement of the head, eyes blinking, testing out its footholds. It seemed so calm, so serene, not frightened as small birds tend to be. After about 10 minutes it suddenly flew off to joins its friends and family. I don't know if it understands my intentions, or if it will even remember, but I feel like I did a good deed.

Later in the day I was walking down the street and I witnessed a group of young teenage girls giggling, gathered around an object lying on the sidewalk. As I approached, I noticed that it was in fact a dead seagull. These girls clearly had no sympathy for this creature, as evidenced by their kicks and immature fascination with this bird. As humans, I believe we have a responsibility towards the protection of all creatures, whether they are perceived to be pests or pets. We are still learning about the workings of the ecosystem, and how vital each link in the chain really is. Most have regard only for themselves and their families, and take "lesser" animals for granted. When in fact, this importance is only a human trait which is insubstantial, and will eventually lead to our demise. We need an ethical revolution.


Life is crazy, life is sweet

Wow, a lot has happened, dear humble readers, since we last spoke. But of recent events I shall be more than happy to divulge. Yesterday, I went to court (believe it or not, see previous post about crazy drug addict asking me if I was a lawyer). Just to give you some background, I had received a traffic ticket for failing to stop at a red light when I made a right turn. It could have gone either way, but the cop decided to give me a ticket (as is his job). I didn't agree with his judgement so I chose to plead "not guilty". Also, I was hoping that the cop wouldn't show up in court and my $180 ticket would be removed. However, as it turns out, he was indeed there. After he gave his testimony, I actually got to cross-examine him! Which was fun, but it didn't really help my case as my line of questioning really went nowhere. Then, it was the crown's turn to grill me on the stand, where I definetely buckled. I wanted to shout "ENTRAPMENT!" but I was satisfied with begging for my ticket to be reduced (which it was) from $180 down to $155 (yay). I fought the law and they totally won, sort of.

On a lighter note, I have applied to be a condom tester for Durex, which comes with a cash award of $1000, and all the condoms, lube and sexual paraphenalia one could ask for. Wish me luck readers! I assume the $1000 is to pay the ladies to do "the thing" with you.

Thirdly and finally, I am trying to set up a meeting with Glen Humplik (of Tom Green fame) under the pretense of a job interview. I'll let you know how it goes.

Jibber-Jabber OUT!


Bus Bus's Random Thought for the Day

I wonder if praying mantis's ever actually pray...? Think about it. It'll keep you up at night.


Here's a classic!


Raise your fists

Strange words burst from a nerd
A lone sheep breaks absurdly from the herd
These lonely waifs drift slowly into night
We've lost the willingness to stand up for our rights
The system can break you, make it hard to get back up
You know with greed and power comes a tendency to be corrupt
Once the opportunity arises, who will be left guarding the fort
Who will be left to play the advocate and willingly offer retort
I pledge and vow to resist the decay with all of my might
To be a guide to those blind lost and appauled, to offer a glimmer of sight
To offer alternatives, offer a choice much larger than fight or a flight
I've got my beliefs and I won't sacrifice, best believe that i'm holding them tight
When all is said and done I will be the one whose fists are raised to the sky
Standing firm because I've learned this can all be destroyed in the blink of an eye
We can't back down but we must resist
We must act now and just can't miss
So line up your sights - make your aim true
But be doubly sure that the same barrel isn't pointing directly at you!


Here's a Thought!

A side-tracked mind

I can't think of less than 10 things at a time

Watch for the signs

Sitting blissful in ignorance of the sublime

These city limits can't contain my spirit

And asshole critics won't perceive how I spin it

But after all the world is small

And it don't matter how you fall

Well you will - and the thrill is enough to send chills

Through your gills like fish trapped in a spill

Built to last and built to kill

A guilded hilt from distant hills

You've lost the way but found the will

Too hard to swallow a deadly pill

So how do you perceive the tides

And stallions black the Reaper rides

It's only fear that pain abides

It's going to be a bumpy ride

To dream a sleep of seven slumbers' light

And how you yearned for some respite

Sweet lovers came and stole the night

So hold your peice and lock it tight

The darkness that surrounds your womb

Has turned your life into a tomb

Where sadness blackens every room

Choking on your silver spoon

You fucking avaristic fools

You ghoulish lumps of sickly drool

Swimming, swimming, in your swimming pools

When days are hot, when days are cool

Please don't mistake my rage for hate

Cursing those who sit and wait

They've earned their doom and sealed their fate

Turn back now, it's not too late!


Friday Fun Facts Are Back!

- , the famous dinosaur that entertains kids is from .
- Close to 3 billion are sold in every year.
- In 1894, the made its debut in .
- In the movie "" a 17 minute cost over $40 million to produce.
- delivered the commencement address at located in the state of in 1996.
- means "."
- The " and " industry has grown by 233% in the past decade.
- The accent that used for the character came from the accent that his mother would use when she was telling him bedtime stories when he was a child.
- The first to open in was the in 1919.
- Surveys indicate that the number one reason people play is for leisure.
- A pregnant goldfish is called a .
- A doesn't echo.
- On average, 100 people choke to death on every year.
- It's physically impossible for you to lick your elbow. Don't think so? Click here.
- The was invented before the match.
- A will live nine days without its head before it starves to death.
- live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
- are left-handed.
- The liquid inside young coconuts can be used as a substitute for .
- Donkeys kill more people annually than .
- Apples, not , are better at waking you up in the morning.
- In 1989, the space shuttle carried 32 fertilized chicken eggs into orbit.
- The average day is actually only 23 hours and 56 minutes.
- The space shuttle can accelerate to a speed of 27,000 kilometres per hour in just eight minutes.
- It takes eight and a half minutes for light to get from the sun to earth.
- A is an actual unit of time! It's 1/100th of a second.
- In Australia, a dust-devil is called a "willy-willy."
- There is a large brass statue of in Lima, Peru.
- are experts who study feces. (aka. crap, dung, dookie, dumps, feces, excrement, etc.)
- In , September 20 is "Love Your Teeth Day."
- Fires onland generally move faster uphill than downhill.
- Being unmarried can shorten a man's life by ten years.
- At lift off, weight about 4.5 million pounds.
- house was partially designed using a computer.
- was first establish in 1889 and they started out making special playing cards.
- The employees tax manual has instructions for collecting taxes after a .
- taste with their feet.
- are the only animals that can't jump.
- An 's eye is bigger than its brain.
- A can sleep for three years.
- Thirty-five percent of people who use for dating are already married.
- Everyday, U.S. business use enough paper to circle the Earth over 20 times.
- You burn more calories sleeping than you do watching .
- is the only planet that rotates clockwise.
- The in your house is mostly made up of dead skin.
- last longer when refrigerated.
- The first owner of the company died of lung cancer.
- are a member of the family.
- All of the clocks in the movie are stuck on 4:20.
- There are 293 ways to make change for a .
- A has 32 muscles in each ear.
- have striped skin, not just striped fur.
- A has a memory span of three seconds.
- The best time for a person to buy is in the afternoon. This is because the foot tends to swell a bit around this time.
- An office desk has 400 times more than a toilet.
- is a brand of .
- It costs about 3 cents to make a $1 bill in the .
- were the first toothbrushes to go to the moon when they were aboard the mission.
- cotton swabs were originally called .
- Some and contain the same chemicals found in .
- is the slipperiest substance in the world.
- was an ordained .
- 's business card said he was a used .
- In most , including , the time displayed on a is 10:10.
- 's full name is "El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los Angeles de Porciuncula"
- In 1983, a Japanese artist, , made a copy of the completely out of ordinary toast.
- American novelist was the first known author to submit a typed .
- means "" in .
- is the fear of .
- The only has 12 letters.
- No word in the language rhymes with month, orange, or purple.
- "Dreamt" is the only word that ends in the letters "mt."
- A has 32 in each .
- was the first to have . The animated ran in 1949 and had a singing and .
- The , which is a small bird, can fly a round trip from the to the and back. This can be as long as twenty thousand miles per year. This is the longest migration for a .
- A baby is about the size of a when it is born.
- saliva has been responsible for many advances in research into recovery.
- issued a in 1973 that looked like a and actually would play the national anthem if placed on a .
- Female and male cannot tolerate being around each other except when they breed.
- The is born with , but they fall off as the fish grows.
- In , there is a that has a made of .
- A can open and close its jaw but cannot move it side to side.
- A female can die if she goes into heat and cannot find a mate.
- A has 32 .
- A can dig a tunnel three hundred feet long in a single night.
- A species of , "," in can grow up to fifteen feet in length.
- A can breathe through its butt.
- An individual is called a .
- always have an uneven pairs of walking legs.
- Every single in the today comes from a single litter captured in in 1930.
- have approximately 100 eyes around the edge of its shell.
- are immune to cancer.


Bus Bus's Random Thought for the Day

Though Beaver Tails have no real resemblance to real beavers, they are a little piece of delicious.

Sexy Times Are Here To Stay

This blog just got a whole lot sexier. Yes, you heard me. DON'T MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF! Sorry, too much caffeine this morning. Wait a minute.....I'M NOT SORRY! You'll just have to deal with my rage. If you can't, then I don't want you reading this blog anyways. But I guess I can't stop you after all. Go ahead, read away for all I care!

Where were we? Ah yes, Sexy Times. As you may or may not have noticed, we have a new contributor around here. She is Bus Bus (that's two buses or busses) and I also expect great things from her, although I said the same thing about Womacky and we haven't heard much from her *AHEM*. Luckily I have enough blogging power to run this thing. Please stay tuned to the soap opera that I have created in my mind, which I type into this ridiculous blog.


Hump Day Updates

Well, well, well. You're the last person I expected to see here. Why did you come anyway? I mean, you don't call or write, or even take 5 minutes to send an email, and yet you seem to be able to come to this URL. Maybe you've forgotten about what we once had! The romance, the intrigue, the deception, the passion. You don't need to say anything back, just hear me out for once. I miss you. Is that so crazy? I miss your smell, the way you used to get mad and rip off my fingernails while I slept, blissfully drugged out on GHB which you would slip into my wine at dinner. Ahhh, the memories. I can even forgive you for cutting the brakes on my car, leaving me in a coma for these past 5 months, waking up and going back to an empty apartment and empty life. Please come back to me. I need to feel something. Pain, love, happiness, ANYTHING to take away the gaping hole you've left in my abdomen, and my heart. Glad that we got that out of the way. Now what did you come here to say?



Classic Simpsons Moment

"Gym? What's a Gym?"

"Ohhhhhhh....a GYM."


Okay okay fine.

Okay, I know, it's been over a month since my last post, but seriously people, what do you want from me? Perfection? Sorry, no perfection here. Not even Perfection the motorized game from Milton Bradley. Maybe if I had a little help from contributors *AHEM*. I guess what really spawned this post was a conversation I had with Smittys. It went a little something like this:

Smittys: So, what the hell man, I am a huge fag and you haven't updated your blog in forever
*foot note, please see post re: Smittys bet re: the blog
Me: I am only one man, man. You know it's hard, it's mad hard to be a gangster!
Smittys: I know why, it's because of your new lady!
Me: No man, that's not -
Smittys: It is it is I know it is!
Me: Whatever man, did you really my Coca-Cola entry?
Smittys: No.
Me: Did you read my Eisenhower speech?
Smittys: No.
Me: Then you really are a giant fag.
Smittys: You're right, I'm a big giant cock-loving fag.
Me: At least you can admit it. Why don't you go back and read all the older entries that you never took the time to read and then maybe tell me to update my blog once you've actually read the content. Reading my entire blog would be the equivalent of getting a Grade 6 education.
Smittys: Awwww, but I don't want one of those I am a lazy fag who wants dicks in his mouth, not an education!

So, that was pretty much how it went down, but as per his request, here is a posting! Also, he can complain all he wants but has he ever contributed to the blog? Has he? NO.


How to deal with Cops

Never talk to the Police. Police will often ask questions, manipulate answers, and drop open-ended questions in order to get people to incriminate themselves. They have been trained in how to do this. You do not have to talk to the police, investigators, or even the FBI on the streets, if you have been arrested, or if you're in jail. Only a judge has the authority to order you to answer questions (and even then you can still plead the 5th).

Anything you say to a cop may be used against you and other people. Once you've been stopped or arrested, you can't talk your way out of it. Don't try to engage cops in dialogue or respond to accusations. If you are nervous about simply refusing to talk, you may find it easier to tell them to contact your lawyer. Once a lawyer is involved, the cops usually back off because they've lost their power to intimidate. Don't lie to the police - lying is a crime. If you've been arrested, don't talk about anything sensitive in police cars or jail cells, and don't talk to other inmates - you are probably being recorded.

If the police stop you on the street, ask, "Am I free to go?" If yes, walk away. If not, then you are being detained. Ask, "Can you explain why you are detaining me?" To stop you, cops must have specific reasons to suspect you of involvement in specific crime (not just a guess or stereotype). If the police try to search you, your car, or your home, say repeatedly that you do not consent to the search, but do not physically resist. Fight police harassment. Write down all police officers names & badge numbers, addresses of witnesses, the time, date, place and details of the incident. If stopped, get people to watch you. If you get arrested repeatedly tell the police "I do not want to talk until my lawyer is present." You have the right to make 3 telephone calls if you've been arrested on state charges and booked into jail. Demand this right.


Crushing Coke Capitalism and the Alcohol and Tobacco Danger

Good Morning. I'd like to take this opportunity to let you know that I am now 28 days completely smoke-free, after officially quitting on January 5th.
The first couple of months were a bit tricky, as I was just starting out and I slipped up quite a few times, usually when drugs and alcohol were in the mix. Now, when I breathe in second-hand smoke, I feel as though I'm choking. However, overall, it was way easier than I had originally thought it would be. What is everyone's problem anyway? In any case, this brings to mind an interesting article that I read recently (which you can read here). In this study compiled in Britain, Alcohol was the fifth most dangerous drug (accounting for more than half of all emergency room visits) and tobacco was ninth on the list (accounting for 40 per cent of all hospital illnesses). Here's the kicker: Cannabis was eleventh on the list, and ecstasy near the bottom. Interesting that these are both illegal substances. In the history of man, drugs have been used for many purposes, including religious ceremonies, recreation, and in medicine (this still holding true today). But if we concentrate only on "modern times" (for the sake of this posting, 1850 and beyond) we can see that many of the drugs deemed "illegal" today have been available over-the-counter for many years. Heroin (and its derivitives; morphine and codeine) was once used as commonly as alcohol, and was used in over-the-counter remedies including children's cough syrup. I find it interesting also that many "illegal" drugs are widely used in the field of medicine today and are even manufactured by certain governments.

Which brings me to my main point. Coca-Cola was originally created by a morphine-addicted war veteran as a brain tonic. The original formula was based upon the Coca plant (and yes, the original Coke had active cocaine) combined with the Cola nut (for flavor and caffeine). However, soon after the drink became popular, the active cocaine was removed. Also, Coke gave birth to modern advertising, so you can thank Coke for that too. In America, they drink a ridiculous amount of it, equaling five or six cups of sugar a day for the average family (mostly in the South, are you surprised?) They’re not interested in competing with other companies, they want to be THE ONLY company. They spend more on advertising than any other company worldwide, devoting the highest percentage of their revenue to advertising and sponsorship. Their goal (and I am not making this up) is to become the most popular drink on the planet, even more popular than water. I am the only one who sees something wrong with this? Coke is one of the major reasons so many Americans are obese, and again, if I’m not mistaken, the number of obese Americans surpasses 60%. And up here in Canada, we’re not too far behind. Even in the most remote tribal villages, where you may not even be able to buy medicine, you’ll find a strategically placed Coke machine. And Coke doesn’t even taste that great! It has no nutritional value, and the high levels of sugar and caffeine make it highly addictive. Coke is selling an image, and people are drinking it up like fiends. If something isn’t done, I envision a future where Coke will be the only thing available to drink anywhere. That’s pretty sad, and I think we should speak up and speak out against the Coca-Cola Corporation and other entities concerned with market domination.

Jibber-Jabber out.



Thau Dong, Old Chinese Guy, Advice Column #8

"I wish to apologize to my loyal followers for my lengthy absence. I have been in retreat from the world, meditating on the purpose of my life, and considering matters of importance to the universe. Specifically, transgendered/transexual people. SERIOUSLY. Can't you motherfuckers choose a goddamn gender? For fuck's sake!"
- Thau Dong, Old Chinese Guy



Haro! Congraturations to Nonsensical Gibberish on your 1000th page visit! Who knew that what began in a small basement in Nebraska would turn into a global web phenomenon? I SURE DIDN'T. Yet, here we are. On the cusp of the new millenium, on the horizon of the future! I want to thank all the loyal visitors to the site, and all the people that visited once and most likely will never return. At last but not least, giraffes. You are so majestic, but not good at skateboarding (apparently).


Delicious Muff Diving!

This weekend I tried a most wonderful drink! It was called the Muff Dive. Much to my dismay, it did not taste like muffins as the name would suggest. I did like the whipped cream! And the best part! When the sweet nectar in the middle went gushing into my mouth. Delicious! The ladies were all screaming and taking photos. I guess that's what happens when you go Muff Diving! I wish I could have a Muff Dive every day!