Onehundred Sixtythree

Hey, you know why days have been missing from my week o'bloggin'? That's cause it's close to Christmas and I've been spending time with friends and also shopping. Not that I hadn't done most of it in one day, but there's also the writing of cards, the drinking of nog and the contemplating of snow...

Okay, so I just haven't made much time for a bloggin', but you know what? It's my website, so meh! All this to say that this is the last blog before the end of no internet. Also I promise that before next year my continued story will finish. And if you haven't been able to keep track of what story I'm talking about, or which parts are the one story... you just have to keep an eye open for "...Continued" at the beginning. Well, if you take the time to look through.

Okay okay. The first part is blog number 156, the second is in blog number 159. And the next is yet to come, only because I haven't taken the time to think up an "ending".

And if you're all like "But Dave, I don't care about this story", then I'm all like "So don't read it and go back instead to some other postings that you haven't read yet". Also, if you're all like "Dave, you know there are error's in this story, right? Did you even proof read?", then I'm all like "No, do I look like I'm still in school to you? Well maybe I look that way cause it wasn't long ago that I was but... the point is that I'm not in school anymore and have gotten out of the habit of proof reading and I'll try to do so from now on." At least I remember to spell check.

What I was going to say for today has been lost to me, which brings me to a point: Being forgetful can be a pain, but it can also be fun because you're always learning the same new things. It's only if you realize that you've done something before but thought it was a new experience when it can get sad. But then you probably don't remember how last time went, so that doesn't matter anyways. I'll probably be in a home when I'm old. Hecks, I should probably be in one now! Who am I? What's the internets? Get off my lawn! I want pea soup!

Onehundred Sixtytwo

If you ever feel nervous on a date, just tell the person they've got something in their teeth. If they have a mirror on them and prove you wrong, well um... squirt ink and run away. It seems to work for the squid.

Today's topic is casting my movie. The cast I'd like to have for my movie would be Zach Braff, Edward Norton, Lucy Liu, Nathan Fillion, Christopher Titus, Ryan Reynolds, Drew Barrymore, Brendan Fraser, Adam Sandler, and Greg Kinnear. Not that these stars would be my total cast, but they would be my first picks.

What my movie would be about is that this group of people are trying to prove to the world that they're super heroes. The problem is that the media keeps explaining away any super deed done by this group, that anyone could have pulled it off, and even that these "super heroes" are setting up the crimes to try and make themselves look good and to con the public.

For example, if one of the heroes comes flying in, the media would say it's fancy wire work. Or if a hero is able to stop bullets, the media would say rubber bullets or blanks or something like that.

I don't know if I would go for the whole "but then a really big problem comes along and the world is begging the heroes for their help". I think I'd rather have it that there's absolutely nothing these heroes are able to do that will convince the media and the world that they truly are heroes. With modern technology the way it is today, it's hard being a hero and being taken seriously.

And that's all I have to say about that.

WOTD:

Neurasthenic - (adj) affected with or suggestive of mental disorder characterized esp. by fatiguing easily, lack of motivation, feelings of inadequacy, and psychosomatic symptoms.

Haiku:

Curving and twisting

Green leafy vines crawling wall

Reaching for sunlight.

Onehundred Sixtyone

You know how people like to portray one's conscience as a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other? How do you figure it is for either a devil or an angel? For the angel would they have a devil on one side and a human on the other? And then vise versa for the devil? I mean, you can't just have an angel or a devil, there's gotta be another voice. That's just how it works, there're always three options.

You know, I don't quite understand how the third option would work (ignoring both the devil and the angel) because either your own instinct would be good or bad, depending on your world view. Or is it just in cartoons that you ignore both and they're both left to um...well actually I can't recall a time where I saw that happen. I can remember when Daffy Duck's conscience angel and demon both agreed on what to do, mainly because they're both greedy. And there are other characters who had similar agreements, but what about when the person disagrees with both angel and demon? Does anyone recall that?

Maybe it's just that whichever decision you make is either good or evil... yeah but I think I'm going more for a 'there's always another choice' thing here. Also, how do you feel about a live action show using angels and devils? The only show that I can think of that might have done such a thing would have been Scrubs. And the only other thing would be Seinfeld where Jerry's brain was having a chess match against his desire to continue to date a woman. So the point of this question is should the shoulder conscience bit be left to the cartoons or is it alright to bring it into the live action shows?

Okay, WOTD time:

Sunbonnet - (n) a bonnet with a wide brim to shield the face and neck from the sun

I just like to say "bonnet". Lol. Hey also a side note, should it be "Lol" or "LoL" or "LOL"? I'm talking about when it's the beginning of a sentence, or one on its own. I always just make the first 'L' capital.

Haiku:

Lost in the luggage

My love for her departed

Now she wants it back.

Onehundred Sixty

I might be wrong on this, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.

This morning as I was heading out to make my milk delivery, I drove past the old mill. I had taken that road because other things were on my mind and I simply hadn't been paying attention to where I was going. I wonder if such a thing is fate. The point of the matter is that as I drove past, I swore I had seen two men standing beside the mill, as if they were inspecting the building. I thought to myself, "Is there really someone interested in that property? Or perhaps they're wanting to start up that old mill again." I couldn't come to a reason as to why they would be wanting to start it up again as the new bakery has been up and running for quite some time now, and with it still running, there's no reason for a mill.

Before I could think upon it any further I had arrived at the market. I thought perhaps I would run by the old mill again to see if the two men were still there. I hadn't seen a truck or any other vehicle, but it could have just been parked off to the side.

My first delivery was of course Mrs. Baydah and as usual she was at the door to greet me. I swear that old lady doesn't get any visitors, lucky for me I have a schedule to keep. I hear the stories she tells can be quite tall. I suppose it would at least be an interesting conversation. I don't suppose that stopping in one day would do any harm, and it would probably bring a smile to that old woman's face.

My next stop was Mr. Butner and his niece. What was her name? Lilac? Daisy? Rose? Well that doesn't matter. What does matter is that Mr. Butner has lived in town the longest and so I had asked him if he's ever heard of someone wanting to buy the property the old mill is on. He said there have been farmers every now and again, stopping in to check out the land, but never had any offer been made. Mr. Butner figured it was because the land was too rocky. I thought it seemed perfectly fine, but I suppose that goes to show how much I know about that sort of thing.

I told Mr. Butner about the two men I saw, and told him we'd have to discuss it further when I finished my deliveries. The rest of my deliveries were done in silence, as no one else in town was up at that hour. Once I finished dropping off the crates and empties, I stopped by Tate's for a coffee and a blueberry muffin. Heather was there today. It was sure good to see her again, even if I couldn't work up the courage to ... well I will someday. Soon. She smiled as I came in.
Right, the old mill. When I drove past it again this morning, there was no sign of the two men. I drove up the road to get a better look, to see if I could find anything that said what they were up to. I noticed tire tracks, looked to be for a car. Maybe if I was a better detective I could say what kind of car, I just knew they weren't truck tracks.

My bet is they're not interested in getting the mill up and running again. In fact, I think they're planning something illegal. If I remember correctly, there was a story about old run-down buildings, out in the countryside, being used to stash away drugs or alcohol, not 3 hours from here. I can't rightly say if those stories are true, but they're not entirely unbelievable. Also there was talk about the mob setting up around this county.

If I'm wrong, it's something we can be glad of. But if I'm right-

Onehundred Fiftynine

...CONTINUED

Lucas Panton himself, with his own crew of course, dug out the first mine. It was mostly a coal and diamond mine but the legend says Panton found a ruby the size of his palm. He was going to take it to the bank in Pnolla but something happened when he went into the forest. Details vary depending on the story you hear, but when Panton reached Pnolla, he didn't have the ruby and had become a recluse.

It was a long time before anyone dared enter the forest again. It was only when a couple of young hunters were tracking down a buck, which lead them to the forest, did man ever enter again. The hunters got their buck and, when questioned, reported nothing out of place or mysterious about the forest. At first it seemed the hunters would continue to use the forest, and for a time they did, but no one ever dared go more than thirty feet in, it was just considered a superstition.

Eventually, as the world turned to civilization and the modern way of life, the legend of the forest became nothing more than a bedtime story. The surrounding villages grew into large towns, farmers took up what land there was good for grain fields or pasture, and people forgot. Not everyone forgot, if only because they wanted a good story for their children, which was exactly the case for my mother. Her mother had told it to her, and she told it to me. Only in this past year did I find out that this story has been passed down, on my mother's side, for generations since the days of none other than Lucas Panton, the legendary man himself.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Onehundred Fiftyeight

You know what I miss?

Warm summer breezes. The feel of nice healthy grass between my toes. The smell of freshly cut grass. The warmth of the sun as I go for a leisurely bike ride or walk. Enjoying a slurpee outside. Jumping on a trampoline. The smell of flowers. OH! The smell of a BB-Q. Hail to the chef, baby. Being outside, cooking up a steak or chop or other type of fresh meat.

Actually now that I come thing think about it, there are a lot fewer smells outside in the winter than the summer/spring. Huh. Cause you know what a freshly shoveled driveway smells like? The same as an unshoveled driveway. Freshly cut grass however, that's a good and different smell than uncut grass.

I also miss being able to pick fruit right off the tree or bush. Man, picking raspberries or Saskatoon berries or whatever else you might be picking... or going to the park and picking crab apples, those are the good times.

The only distinct smell of winter I can think of, that has to do with outside, is how your clothes smell after a snowball fight, and I wouldn't exactly call that a wonderful memory.

Right well, it's my mother's 50th today, so the-athe-athe-a that's all folks.

Haiku for my mother:

Raising me with care

Your love and support help me

I'll bake you a cake.

Onehundred Fiftyseven

Secrets.

Everyone's got them, no matter how big or small, how many or few, how juicy or dry, or if they are forever remembered or forgotten quickly. There's always going to be something in our lives that we'd rather remain hidden.

For example: the caveman who invented the spear. He was a hunter of course, but I bet that he was too scared to wrestle the saber-toothed tigers like all the others, so he invented a way in which he could keep a safe distance away from the tigers. He said that it was more efficient and productive than going mano-eh-tigro, but really he was hiding the fact that he was afraid.

Also an example for the longest time, and perhaps for them they still convince themselves it's true: the tobaco companies. Since the invention of the cigarette, those who have made them have sold them as a good thing. "The smooth, cool taste of a cigarette is what gets me through my day" or something to that effect. There were big competitions, and continue to be, in which company had the cigarettes that were better than all the rest. Then the idea of cigarettes being unhealthy came along, and cigarette companies have been trying to convince the puplic otherwise. It's not the cigarette that kills, cigarettes are not addictive, we didn't know that...

Perhaps you prefere the secrets kept by the government, or the thought that there are secrets being kept. Area 51 is a popular example, so is brain/mind control, or that the government is secretly watching us all, our every move and conversation being recorded.

To think that every keystroke I make is being recorded somewhere... I suppose that if I were to**SYNTAX ERROR**

Onehundred Fiftysix

Whilst traipsing through the forest I, James H. Farnsworth, came upon a curious little nook. I had been studying a curious little frog when I came upon the nook. Little did I then realise how it would indeed change my life, nay, the very way I viewed the world itself! How could I have? It was an innocent looking nook and at the very most I thought I might find some artifact buried beneath a layer of earth, at the least I thought it was a charming part of the forest. I would never have guessed what lay in store.

It was a sunday, around 10 o'clock in the morning, business as usual for myself, provided the weather was inviting. There wasn't much of a breeze, not that it truly mattered in the forest, which was a little north of the West Estate, and I had come across a lovely path that ran through it, leading towards Pantonburry. It was not so much a short cut as it was a means of escape.

The forest, you see, was not something people traveled through, if one could help it, at least not anymore. At first the forest was an excellent source for wild game, known only to a few. Eventually word got out about the location, but not because of the forest. It just so happened the the hills and country side surrounding the forest was a prime location for coal, diamond, and once in a blue moon: rare gems. This discovery was one by none other than Lucas Panton, the legendary man himself.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Onehundred Fiftyfive

I was thinking about some of the things I enjoyed in my childhood, and one thing that always makes me laugh is how I enjoyed sneaking up on my sister. Sometimes I would hide around the corner and wait for her. Eventually it got to the point that she'd yell something like "I know you're around the corner" and I would be but she wouldn't know which one so I'd still get to scare her. But sometimes I wouldn't be around the corner when she'd say that and then she'd get to the corner and yell out for me to reveal where I was. Sometimes I'd be in my room doing my own thing, but sometimes I'd be in her room, but I don't remember that it was often. Most times I'd be in my room or some other location in the house.

I can still see the layout of that old house, in my head. I can tell you were every room is, and I could probably talk you through that place step by step. Not that I know if the current owners have changed it at all, but I bet I could tell them exactly how it used to be if they did. I wouldn't even have to go inside the house.

I've always liked to give my sister, and anyone else, a good scare, but I haven't done so recently. Or rather, now it's more scaring them in a different creepy way. But uh... that's another story. Probably.

WOTD:

Vicuna - (n) 1. a South American wild mammal related to the llama and alpaca; also: its wool 2. a soft fabric woven from the wool of the vicuna; also: a sheep's wool imitation of this

Haiku:

Softly tread forest

Watch out for leaves underfoot

Cliche twig snapping.

Onehundred Fiftyfour

I think I'd rather have a Coke than... (not that Coke is a bad thing, by far)

- eating gross corn or baked potato

- go to school

- go to work

- slip on ice

- get hurt

- touch a Pep**

- listen to bad music

- watch A New World

- a bloody nose

- fight a bear

- listen to politics

- get sand in my mouth

- get lost

- kiss a camel

- drop a sandwich

- lose my wallet

But I would never ...insert joke...

I don't know a good line. I was hoping I'd have one by now. If you don't mind, I'm just going to leave you with the WOTD and a haiku.

WOTD:

Pother - (n) a noisy disturbance; also: fuss

Haiku:

Skating under stars

Moonlight shining down upons

Lovers hand in hand.

Onehundred Fiftythree

Here's a funny prank, for those of you looking for one. Also it doesn't involve any illegal activity, so it's safe and fun for the whole family.

First you go to the closest recycling bins. Oh well first maybe you should get a box, a big empty box. Then you go to the bins and you take out some flyrs. Okay, a lot of fliers. If you're lucky you can find the papers that they keep the flyrs in when they deliver them to the door, the point of that being to make it look professional.

Next you bundle up the flyrs as best you can, again going for a professional look.

Wait... I guess the very first step is to map out where you'll go ...but I just was explaining the prank first. But to save on gas you should map it out first, but then you're using gas to map it out... Hmmm.

So first you map out your trip, then you get a box, then you go to the bins, then bundle (string works too but that's a little suspicious, at least because they don't use string to deliver these babies, I just thought if you've got string lying around for nothing, well here's your something to use it up in).

By now you might be thinking: "Dave, I've got it all bundled and ready to go, what the heck do you have me doing here? You trying to start your own flyer delivery service?" No, I'm pulling a prank here, remember?

So what'chya gotta do is go around to all those houses that have "No Flyers" signs, and you deliver them flyers! This way you get to rub it in their faces but you don't get fired because you're not working for your local paper. This prank is more for when you're in the mood to stick it to the Man because, when you deliver these flyers, and it helps if you can do it for a week, is that these "No Flyers" people get upset and phone the paper, and it's such a city wide problem because you've gone throughout the city so it's not just one paper boy's fault. Or maybe the NF people get upset at their neighbors because they think their neighbors did it, but when it's happened city wide for a week, people begin to think what's going on and maybe it makes the news and that's when you tell them it was Crazy Eddy or something, or maybe the name of a known con man, so you-

Well maybe some of the results are varied and whatever, but the point is that um... you get to stick it to the Man? Oh uh... if the Man is reading my blog... I got this idea from my sister. Yeah. That's it, that's what'll fool 'em. Now it's time for icecream and lollipops...

Onehundred Fiftytwo

Instant success.

It's kinda sad about how impatient the human race can be. There are not too many things that have been adopted into our culture which would require patience and time. Everything must be done in an instant or else we try another method. I don't know when it happened, but I know it's been happening through out history. I'm sure many a king has preferred the quick servant rather than the servant who takes up the king's time. If something can be done in the same manner but with a faster pace, it would be preferable to do it quickly.

When there is a journey to be made, don't take the long way when you can take the shortcut, that's why the shortcut was invented. The only real reason to take the long way is if the traveler is trying to delay something. Say the traveler is going to a city to die (for some reason) so they plead, for their last hours on earth, to take the long way instead.

Or perhaps you're making a meal which requires time to cook and prepare. In today's modern age you could easily ...well you could buy it from the store too, but the point is that you could put this meal which takes a long time to cook, in the microwave, but because you want to go out for the day to do some last minute shopping for Hannukkah, you use the slow cooker instead of the microwave. Oh and you can't go to the store and buy the premade meal because they don't have it in kosher.

And you don't want to ...well I don't want to knit myself a sweeter... or a t-shirt, so I go out and buy one. I could take my bike to the mall, but the bus ...okay well let's just say the bus would be faster. If I had a car I'd rather take the car because the car is faster than my bike. Just like if I'm traveling, I'd rather take a car rather than the bus, but I'd rather take the plane rather than my car.

As a society, we don't always see the value in taking time in doing something. If only we had waited... well I suppose the same sentence could be use for speed: "If only we had gotten there sooner..."

Too bad there wasn't some sort of device that could say whether the best course of action would be to take your time or go quickly. I can't quite come up with a situation might be used, but I'm sure it would come in handy sometime.

WOTD:

Aria - (n) an accompanied elaborate vocal solo forming part of a larger work.

Haiku:

Gentle to the touch

Soft like winter's fresh lain snow

Thick like lion's mane.

Onehundred Fiftyone

The warmth of the fire ran up my spine and tickled my brain quite divinely. I stood in front of the fireplace watching it for a few moments, admiring the intricacy in the-

That's when she came in crying, her legs giving way once she saw me. I ran to her to make sure she didn't fall over completely and hit her head, and also to put my arms around her to try and console her. "Chantelle, what's wrong?" I asked, worried. She didn't look hurt physically... "Did one of those girls try something na-"

Chantelle cried out, her eyes still welling up with tears. "I can't take it anymore Kenny, I just give up. Every time I try I fail and I can't think that I'll get any better because once I feel like this is it, I'll be able to do it this time, I just end up doing worse than before! I just can't keep trying, it's too much!"

"Wait," I asked "What? Try what? What is it you can't do? I didn't know there was something you were trying to-"

"The garden!" She whined, "I can't grow a thing in that blessed garden! I tried carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, leeks and peas and beets and all sorts of other vegetables. I even thought that maybe if I tried fruit, maybe it was just the garden's way of saying it didn't like vegetables. I mean, who would have thought a garden wouldn't like vegetables?! Crazy right? But I had to try something Kenny, if it wouldn't grow vegetables for me, I was determined it would at least grow some fruit for me. I planted strawberries, raspberries, rhubarb, blueberries, black berries, goose berries, and plumbs, but would you believe that not one of those grew?! Not one! And it's just too much for me now, I can't handle this much failure, I just can't endure it any longer, I won't!"

At that point she burst into tears and I noticed how wet my shirt was getting. I was relieved it wasn't too bad of a problem... at least she wasn't being emotionally abused, that there wasn't a bully picking on her at school. I smiled, which turned into a grin and then I burst out laughing, more at my own relief than her situation but you can only guess how she took it. I'll anyone that saw an atomic bomb blow up that that explosion was nothing. The only thought that came to mind was run, so without even grabbing my shoes I burst out the front door-

And that's when I met: Tyler Durden.

Onehundred Fifty

Woah man, is this really #150? I always thought that was some sort of mythical legend or legendary myth! Never thought it would come to ol' Multipurpose Exposition. So what shall I do for this onehundred fiftieth bloggin'? I don't know, I'm not really prepared, I just didn't see this coming.

Write up part of some kind of crazy story? A poem from '1ooo Years of Irish Poetry'? Lotsa haiku(s)? [I should really see what the plurral for that is] Oh man, like 150 haiku(s)? Or 150 lines of poetry/story?

Or maybe it should be something important and motivational, like how it pays off if you're persistant... but I um... haven't been paid off yet. Or have I? Has this blog changed someone's life and they just haven't told me yet? Or um... is the cheque in the mail? Maybe just a 150 word long blog. Yeah...

Onehundred Fourtynine

It's interesting... or it would be if I knew, how many people devote their lives to climbing a mountain. No, I don't mean a metaphorical mountain like the mountain of homework or paperwork you have to "tackle" before the weekend. Or like, the mountain of macaroni and cheese you ate for supper. Oh... the mountain of meat you have for the BB-Q ~drool~ I'm just going to think about that for a bit.

Oh man, that would be sweet. Go out, have a BB-Q with your friends and they've all bought meat and it's your job to cook it up... oh yeah... Just the thought of the smell of it... dang that's something I'm missing right now. Just a big juicy steak that's nicely marinated and just dripping with cowey goodness. Or a nice big juicy pork chop... oh yeah, all ready to be covered with apple sauce, just cook 'er up and she's ready to go. Oh yeah baby, I'm right there with you. And that smell, that gorgeous smell of onions cooking in the frying pan in the kitchen, unless you gots a fancy BB-Q that you could fry 'em up right there. Oh baby, I hope I have a dream that I'm BB-Qing and you can just smell it and-

Dang, I should get to bed before these images go away. Don't worry steakey baby, I'm coming to cook you right up.

WOTD:

Civilize - (vb) 1. to raise from a primitive state to an advanced and ordered stage of cultural development 2. refine

Haiku:

Thick and juicy meat

Dripping with marrination

Grill over fire.

Onehundred Fourtyeight

Tomorrow they're calling for snow but wouldn't say how much. Um, do they ever? It seemed to me that they've said in the past whether or not we'd get a lot or a little snow, so as you could expect what driving conditions might be. Now I don't know what to do Mr. Weatherman. I guess that means shoveling snow tomorrow, not that I have much ground to cover. That's one thing I don't miss from my old house, having to shovel the driveway and also the sidewalk. Now there's just a small driveway and that's it. Well I also shovel the neighbor's snow, just because it's hardly anything and I'm young and spry.

So then, worst and best things about winter are as follows:

The Worst

- can get really fricken cold

- when snow melts but not completely, ice forms and kills puppies and kittens. Probably. Also I skinned my knee because of snow already.

- probably other things

- pigeons

The Best

- snowball fights

- tobogganing

- the beauty of undisturbed snow

- snowflakes, but like... big ones

- broomball

- mittens and scarves and toque's oh my!

- probably other things

- not pigeons

Right, so there it is: my list of 2008's premium um... winter discounts?

I'm hoping but also doubting that we'll get a big dump of snow tomorrow. Do you think it will finally come? Will winter remember who it once was? Only time will tell, my friends. ...Um, you can't see it but I just ...what do you call that action? When a job's done, you kind of clap/brush your hands against each other, as if you're getting the dust off them. You know: "That job's finished" `clap dust off hands`

WOTD:

Einsteinuim - (n) an artificially produced radioactive element

Oh... I was hoping for some kind of ...crystal they found in Einstein's scull or somesuch.

Haiku:

Sliding across ice

Right into fluffy snowbank

Watch out for yellow.