Rainy Pete's Unbalanced World: January 2006

In appreciation of.............

Christmas has become a distany memory, although for many of us, the bills remain. Another lingering part of Christmas may or may not be hanging around your house at this time too. With all the online shopping packaging and protection of delicate ornaments and memories taking place, most of us have at least one piece of protective packaging laying around. The most adored, and probably endangered, of these is air cellular cushioning material also known the world over by it's original trade name of Bubble Wrap®. That right folks, today is official Bubble Wrap® appreciation day!

It has the magical power of protecting items contained within it's secure grasp from the destructive forces of postal carries and couriers the world over. I've often considered trying to construct a car out of the stuff, although the ensuing noise from any collision would be deafening! This funky sheeting was created like most of my favourite inventions, completely by accident. It began when a couple of science types named Alfred Fielding and Marc Chavannes got together in 1957 to create a textured plastic wallpaper that could be easily washed. To their absolute dismay they realized that nobody was too interested in their bumpy wallpaper of choice, but also realized that this failed wallpaper had a far nobler calling.

At that time there was only paper as an option when packing items for shipping. Paper doesn't stand a chance of protecting really heavy stuff or even incredibly delicate items so the wallpaper was used to surround and protect as never before. The product resulted in the creation of a company that stands to this very day. They have refined and tweaked their manufacturing to their patented method that is used today.

Just as the original use failed and the new use was unplanned but quite welcome, there is yet another application for this renowned packing material that the creators never foresaw! Therapy. How many of us, when confronted by a piece of bubble wrap, can resist it's siren song? One can only image the racket when she gets dipped on the dance floor!

One can only image the racket when she gets dipped on the dance floor!

Gently calling to our very souls to squeeze our cares away until they are blown away by the tiny puff of air that is released with a satisfying pop. If you can't find any nearby and are having one of those days you should really consider some virtual bubble wrap to hold you over.

It's appeal was so universal that back in 2001 "Spirit 95" Radio in Bloomington, IN started Bubble Wrap® Appreciation Day. They even held their first annual Bubblympiad, which featured spectacular feats of human achievement like the Bubble Wrap® popping relay and Pop-A-Mole along with some creative expressions in the form of sculpture and fashion design contests.

Track down a sheet, warm up your thumbs and get ready to celebrate.

Appreciate it dammit!!

A Dramatist, some Donuts and the DJ's

Canadians the country over have come to know Tim Hortons. Even international folks who travel here apparently remember it and pine for it. The donut chain born in 1964 of an NHL player of legend, has grown and evolved to massive company over the years. The very first store still stands to this day and this site of
history is soon to become a battle ground of epic proportions. Well maybe not epic, but definitely novel.

And she thought the paper pushed some crazy deadlines!

And she thought the paper pushed some crazy deadlines!

Starting at noon today a local writer and 3 radio show personalities are going to raise money for literacy. Lesley Simpson writes for a column every Friday on frugal living as well as a column on fitness as well as being a published author and illustrator of children's books. She is going toe to toe with these three professional motormouths in a battle to write the great Canadian novel. Over 48 continuous hours they will be confined to the premises of the original Tim Hortons on Ottawa Street, where they will grind out their works fuelled only by the food provided by the store.

Talk all you want boys, this time you'll have to write it down.

Talk all you want boys, this time you'll have to write it down.

Lesley will face off against DJs Jason Farr, Mike Nabuurs and Tom Park from 820 CHAM. Upon completion of these works, likely to be riddled with sugar and caffeine induced delirious ramblings, will be published on lulu.com where the proceeds from their sale will be used in support of literacy. Lesley's money will go to two local schools while the radio boys will be donating all their proceeds to a summer camp that helps disadvantaged kids. The real drive for the competitors will be in the victory though. A panel of judges will crown one of the books the clear winner, and champion of the event. Each of the participants is confident that they will be victorious. She will demolish her opponents as she "reinvents the novel". She claims that she will be restructuring the very foundations of how a novel is put together and is looking forward to the challenge. Her main obstacle would be the three other writer who are stepping into the arena. Jason Farr, a local morning show host has claimed that he will be scribing a work that "My book will be somewhere between the witty, contemporary sarcasm of (Kurt) Vonnegut and maybe a self-help book with one self in mind -- me,". "Albert Einstein said imagination is more important than knowledge, so I'm above my competitors in that respect." Anybody who listens to his morning show will have no doubt that he can crank out that many words in such a short period.

Jason's co-workers Tom Park and Mike Nabuurs aren't to be shrugged off too lightly though. Tom claims that he has been unstumpable in his 16 years of commercial scriptwriting as creative director for radio. He figures that the book may well be a 260 second long commercial as a one minute one is about a page. Mike writes jokes for national broadcast claims that he grinds out at least 50,000 words in a week so he'll just have to compress that all into two days. Maybe the entire book will read as an extremely long joke, who knows.

Their tactics will range from music to eyewear to cope with the fatigue and inevitable distractions that come with writing books in front of the public. Crammed full of coffee and sugar, will they be able to complete their task? Will their minds snap and the donuts begin to fly? Only as the weekend unfolds will we really know how it all plays out. My hat is off to these folk not only for undertaking that gruelling task of trying to hack out a book in two days, but also for working to benefit a pair of good causes. Good luck and good writing to you all.

HNT #17

Wow! What a day!

My internet at home crapped itself last night and went off to hide in shame.

I had to post from work.

Work was busy.

When I finally got a chance to post, Blogger was down.......

And down........

And down.

So I'm going with a picture that pretty much represents how I feel amdist the chaos.

Happy HNT y'all!

I've been trying to post my HNT but blogger claims it will be down for 30 minutes at 4:00pm yesterday. I'm sneaking this one in with Hello so Happy HNT if it works!

Election fallout

While the country debates the merits of it's new government they fail to notice the rue victims here, the voters. Now I'm not talking about the damage that may or may not be done to the average taxpayer in the wake of the new government, but rather the elderly voters among us. Here in Hamilton we had one voter casualty. Will this rise with each election until fear grips us all on our way to the polling stations?

Apparently this poor old soul had voted and was getting into the waiting car of her sister, when it was put into gear and reversed. She was knocked down by the still open door and rolled underneath the car, with obvious consequences. Her sister felt a bang as she had hit a parked car and pulled forward to check the damage, running her poor sister over a second time. In our warning crazy culture will the next election's registration cards bear a warning about voting and cars? My wife was nice enough to pick me up since I carpool and was dropped off to vote. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize how close I came to death that day. Voting may never be the same again! Only time will tell. I'm just glad I can still walk to the polls.

Don't mess with the snowman!

Lost in the shuffle and the chaos of the election mayhem was a poor beleaguered holiday known to few. Yes folks that right, it was National Snowplow Hockey Mailbox Day. This is a specialized twist on the old redneck game of mailbox baseball, with a Canadian twist. In my checkered past I had the pleasure of plowing a few parking lots for a landscaper friend when the weather got mental. The trucks themselves were parked out in the boonies and as such this enabled a little "hockey" on the way to a job site.

To be honest I never actually plowed any mailboxes, but we had two others who actually plowed items other than snow. One took many a mailbox out while scrambling around the cab to find his dropped cellphone. As he swerved around, the only thing stopping his day from getting really ugly was the snow, as this effectively removed all person shaped targets as well as vehicular victims from his path. The good thing about the mailboxes are the remarkably loud snapping sound that let him know he was about to go off the road.

The blue ribbon actually goes to the guy that drove his truck through a railing that he said he didn't know was there. Now at the back of this particular mall, there wasn't a single person-door that didn't have a step, with a railing, leading up to it, yet he still decided to try to plow the entire step away with the snow. The resulting damage to the railing, and cracks to the plow frame were astonishing. I never knew the steel, when subjected to enough sudden force in extreme cold, can shatter like glass. He even bent the truck frame!

I did no damage, unless you count the fools who had left their vehicles in the snow instead of paying to park in the adjacent lot. Their cars were, unharmed, but definitely trapped in their little 5 foot tall cocoon of snow. I only wish I could have been there to see their faces when they came back the next day to get their cars. Don't feel bad for these people as there were signs stating that the area was a snow removal zone and that all cars had to be out by 11:00pm. Let it also be known that the nearest residential area were a good 1 hour walk away, and that these were the same 4 cars that were always parked there, regardless of the weather. Two of which I kow were warned by the property manager.

Sure we could have had them towed, but then they would have to pay the impound fee to free their car. I preferred to help them save a buck or two by avoiding the impound charges, and any gas they would have burned before the thaw. See, I'm a nice guy! Don't mess with the plow drivers people, they have a hard enough day without your "help". They also have the advantage of by-laws and really, really big equipment.

What's That Smell??

For those that don't know, Canada is knee deep in the home stretch for a federal election. Trust me when I say knee deep, in the most aromatic scent. The parties at

This is the position that many a voter has taken for the last few months, properly equipped for the campaigning.

war have decided to assume that Canadian voters are morons and have geared their advertising and speeches as such. As the candidates and parties hurl accusations and insults back and forth, their platforms and ideals go largely unmentioned. To make it worse, the existing federal government has taken the stereotype of corrupt government, and attempted to live it to the fullest. A series of scandals have left them scrambling to find a way to woo voters.

Unfortunately their tactic of trying to terrify the voters away from the competition by accusing them of war mongering tendencies and financial mayhem just aren't working. While we all assume the government will waste our money, the Liberals went and stole a heap of it, so they aren't faring too well. With this in mind it has become the mission of many people to try and get voter turnout cranked up to the max. The last election saw some of the most dismal voter turnout ever and since people are grumbling about change, they need to get out and do it. I get the idea and I like the idea since I think if everybody got out and voted instead of the wealthy folk, there would be a whole different look to the government at large.

With this drive to increase voting, students at Mcmaster University are apparently attempting to get previously uninterested university women interested in politics and voting. They have created an on campus campaign for women voters encompassing everyone's most beloved and vacuous hotel heiress and using pink shirts with the slogan "voters are hot" on them. It's safe to say that if they are successful, they will have secured the peroxide fake and bake vote. Hopefully it will bother intelligent women enough to get out and vote just so they don't have to look at such a thing again. In a country where 52% of the population are women yet only 21% of our politicians are women, something needs to give.

While this happens the parties themselves try to garner votes in interesting ways that make me laugh. One party, the NDP, trumpets themselves as the party for the working class. They then proceed to jump up and down about how they are the perfect party for our city, assuming we are all lunch bucket and hardhat types. They obviously haven't been downtown and seen the massive office towers, or just up the street at the massive building full of federal employees who aren't required to wear hardhats in their cubicles. Now, hip waders, maybe, but not hardhats. Just last night I actually saw an attack ad targeting these guys from the Conservatives, man they must be getting desperate. This is clearly a tactic to squeeze a few extra votes out of the system since there is no hope in hell that the NDP would win the big seat. There is obviously only one clear option, which unfortunately won't be on the ballot.

Elections Canada should mail a pair of these out with every registration card!

Today's the day when we all go to exercise our civic responsibility and cast our ballot. After spending our holiday season and new year with our ear protectors in we put up with the campaigning. Today is the day we can finally get off the fence and remove our hip waders. After casting our ballot we can schlep home and look forward to a night of crappy television. While the networks all clamor to be the first to deliver the final results, the rhetoric and projections will fly. Maybe I shouldn't put my ear protectors too far until it's all over. The only glimmer of hope is with the CBC, our national television network. They will be spending two hours taking the piss out of politics and having a good laugh. Once their coverage is over it's back to the boring task of waiting to see who wins the race.

It's been a long election and it will all be over soon. The big question is will we poor stupid voters be able to understand the outcome. Will the winning party explain it to us with pretty pictures and a cartoon or two, or will the new Prime Minister see his shadow and declare six more weeks of winter?

Only time will tell.

Meteorological Mayhem

Today's forecast is a balmy 12C which follows yesterdays' balmy -15C. In the last week we've had rain, snow, sleet, freezing rain, sun, cloud, extreme wind and all around nice days as well. I'm not usually one to complain about the weather but this crazy oscillation of hot/cold dry/wet is starting to grate on me. The only thing stopping from a really good shouting session at the clouds is the fact that I think Mother Nature has PMS. Nobody in their right mind has a yell at a woman with PMS unless they are suicidal but lack the resolve to actually do themselves in.

Part of Canada's appeal is the changing weather. My father immigrated here from England, where the weather isn't necessarily rainy and gray all the time, but it's not far off. I enjoy the changing seasons, but generally enjoy it better when they change every few months rather than every few hours. In an effort to stabilize the weather there is a grassroots project being undertaken by a team of local scientists.

They are currently developing a remote launch and delivery system through which they can pummel Mother Nature with specially designed chemical compounds that should ease the weather strain. The general hopes are that this will level off the weather a little bit. If you should happen to see Mother don't provoke her as she is considered armed and dangerous. A single, well placed lightning bolt will fry you like an egg. Wish us luck and good weather.

HNT #16

Well it's HNT time again.

Some people have accused me of going too far.

Others claim I've done all this as a recent attention grab.

Still others wonder what kind of chemicals I have ingested lately.

My wife decided that in an effort to show you that I've always been a little bit off I should delve into the past.

This will also cement the fact that you must pity her for having to endure me.

This week a look at a happy, wholesome time, my wedding. (When I'm supposed to be sensible right?)

We had our pictures taken at a local park with wonderful architecture and plenty of history, so of course I had to have fun with it.

I give you a monumental HNT.

(The best part is that the professional photographer loved the idea and jumped in with suggestions of his very own for the shot!)
Dear lord! Look at the size of that thing!

Dear lord! Look at the size of that thing!

The race is on!

Money has always interested me. Not that I wouldn't enjoy more money, but that's not quite why it has interested me. Money has the interesting ability to make people lose their minds. Just hang around a lottery booth when the jackpots get high and see the mob trying to get their winning ticket and you'll see what I mean. Reality shows are crammed full of people who will do anything for a shot at a few dollars, and for a million they'll give up their friends and family for a month or more.

I've always found it astonishing that no matter how much money anybody makes, or has, they never have enough. We all seem to know this as we see the likes of Bill Gates and Donald Trump Trump and the like constantly driven to make more and more money. Yet we are foolish enough to try to pursue more money in the hopes that will improve our lot in life. The interesting part is that in the race for more money, we rarely have time to live our lives. People work such long hours that they rarely see their kids anymore. I know married people who see each other maybe an hour a day if they are lucky. You can measure success in whatever way you want, but I think that if you want to be happy, you should really learn to be content with what you have. Set goals and gain what you can, but always be aware of the greater cost. I would never want to be so busy that I can't stop and have a coffee with a friend, or play with the kids. Money's like drinking folks, you have to know when to say enough is enough.

While it's true that money can't buy happiness, it is also true that plenty of money can distract you from true happiness. It seems hard to be sad if you live in a massive house and own a few boats and planes. There are people out there who live the "good life" as we are lead to believe that would happily trade it all for a simpler life and people that truly care about them. I'm glad I'm not wealthy as I am not surrounded by people trying to suck up to me. What's to gain by kissing my ass? Bad breath. I proclaim this year as the year of the self audit. Take a good solid inventory of what you are and what you have. Don't just look in your drawers and houses, but look into yourself. Are you really happy? Is it a new TV that will make you happy? Probably not, but it'll give you something to watch when you are depressed. Instead of moping about how crappy your luck is and how life's keeping you down you should take a stand and make changes. You can sit and grumble, or you can turn things upside down and find the true way. The sooner you start living for yourself and stop trying to keep everyone else happy, the better off you'll be.

The funniest part about re-prioritizing your life and goals is that you can sometimes be completely stunned at the things you learn about yourself when you take a moment to really understand who you've become over the years of chasing your goals.

Disclaimer - This is a direct side effect of people with money complaining about their lack of it. This also is in response to them asking me how I can be so happy most of the time when I'm not wealthy and work is a little nuts. Find your happy place and try not to laugh at the rich people, they can afford really good lawyers.

TV ate my brain

I was going to try for witty but my coffee's just not taking hold. I was awake too late for two nights enjoying impossible plots and gunfire.

Oh yeah baby, Jack's back! The show is fraught with tragic overacting and impossible plots, but the nerd in me loves the geek speak and the testosterone craves the gunfights and hand to hand combat. The side effect of watching almost four hours over the last two night though is that my brain has turned to putty. Not the fun silly putty kind, but more the "What in the hell is that stuck to my shoe?" type putty.

Instead of a real post I give you a new look for my world. Maybe I'll keep it, maybe I'll throw a new one up in a few days. Let's face it, I don't so much manipulate HTML code as I do bludgeaon it with a broken stick. Once you start arsing about with HTML code it is either terrifying and you will run in terror forever, or it is like cyber crack. You'll find yourself unable to stop. So hopefull I can find alook I like without accidentally deleting this whole thing and sending it into oblivion.

What do you think?

A Tyre-ing weekend

Well another Saturday has come and gone and with its passing so does another installment of the Bulldogs Survivor. After deplorable saucer usage and the gastrointestinal grief brought on by a nasty pie it was time for round 3. As we once again made our way down to the bowels of the arena we were greeted by the promotional staff with our latest challenge.

With that same aforementioned malicious twinkle in their eyes they laid it out for us. One of our tribe mates would have to roll a tire from one end of the ice rink to the other end and roll the tire into the net. Sounds easy so far. Then they brought out blindfolds and helmets. Said roller would have to do this blindfolded! The remaining team mates could only provide verbal direction to get the tire to its nest of twine. After some deliberation it was decided that it was my turn in the hot seat as Jamie was our projectile in the saucer debacle. Besides, I'm a married man so I'm used to being told where to go! I did find it entertaining that they never asked if I could follow said direction so it's a good thing my wife was far off in the stands. We made our way to the corner of the ice and awaited the signal.

With our blindfolds ad helmets secured we were spun around three times just to make things a little easier. The two teams rocketed down the ice with their tires and converged on the net. My team did a fantastic job of directing me down the ice surface, verbally nudging me to pick up the pace and to steer to the left and right as necessary. While I couldn't see, the net was rapidly approaching and Jamie was instructing me to turn right. I nudged the tire to right little by little, complying with Jamie's instruction when suddenly he gave a mighty roar to go right. I gave the tire a twist to the right and promptly got my feet tangled up in the tire. As I tumbled to the ice I felt my feet connect with the tire and realized I was doomed. There was no way I'd be able to find the tire again before they rolled theirs into the net.

As I stood up to accept my fate and apologize to my team I managed to slam my head, fortunately helmeted for my protection, into the pipe of the net. Suddenly the realization dawned on me that if I had hit the net myself, then my tire must have made it in! I tore off my helmet and blindfold to be greeted by my celebrating tribe. It turns out that my last minute twist and kick were just what we needed to get the tire in the net first. Unbeknownst to us though, the other team had been so busy grieving their sudden loss that they forgot about their runner, who proceeded to run into the net himself. Fortunately he too was wearing his helmet. Unfortunately it did his nose little good as his stooped body slammed nose first into the pipe. He was alright, though a little bruised and bloody, so they made their way to the vote where Bob was voted out.

Who will go next and who will go the distance? Only time will tell.

I'm not too sure.....

Today is a day for those of you that have always doubted. Whatever you doubted whether religious, scientific or social you can revel in this day, International Skeptics Day. If you are prone to being skeptical then take heart, you aren't alone. There are the Skeptics Canada and Ontario Skeptics Society for Critical Inquiry as well as many others around the world to point your skeptical brain at. Dependent on your view of them skeptics are either narrow minded folk who take a counterpoint against all ideas and concept or they are the counterbalance to radical free thinking folk. Many skeptics believe that skepticism is the basis of the modern scientific method of:

I, for one, have always been skeptical of a few things so I'm not sure if I should be planning a celebration for this one or not.

I can tell you that when I first heard of this day I was excited because I thought I was a good skeptic. After checking out some of the websites I can say that I am honestly an amateur. I'm terrified of going too far down the path of pure skeptic tough, as I firmly believe that once you begin down the path there is only one logical conclusion. You will begin to become skeptical of everything until you reach that pure and perfect peak of skepticism at which you point you begin to doubt your very existence and vanish in a cloud of doubt. I think my family might miss me so I'll blindly accept certain things just in case.

I am still going to celebrate by watching as many episodes of Mythbusters as I can find and calling local scientists, asking them to prove what they know. Whatever your take on the situation, whether joyous or skeptical may you all have a happy Skeptics Day. I for one, doubt that you can, but we'll see.

HNT #15

Another week another HNT.

Another trip down the garden path with my madness.

Another picture from my unbalanced mind.

This week I figured I'd try something a little more risque.

I wracked my brain trying to figure out what to do.

My brain hurt afterwards so I subdued it with some beer.

All the beer had me going to the bathroom to pee when the muse struck me like a salmon to the head.

We've seen some oddness in the past but this time it's an action shot!

Ladies and gentlemen, witness me playing with my nuts!

Dining on decadence

So yesterday was entirely deranged, resulting in no post. Today we resume our irregularly scheduled program.

After my pie eating festivities I decided that having seen what a truly nasty pie can be like, it was time to see what lies at the far end of the pie spectrum. Expecting a few interesting recipes, nothing prepared me for what I was about to encounter. A bit of research lead me a mere 20 minutes down the M65 from my ancestral home of Blackburn, England to Burnley. More accurately into the doors of Burnley's Fence Gate Inn where, after eight regulars decided to celebrate a good at the office and challenged owner Kevin Berkins, 57, to create an "upmarket" pie.

A pie, the likes of which England has not seen before, was created. Steak and kidney, Melton Mowbray, nothing I have had could prepare me for what these culinary lunatics had forged. Kevin nipped out to pick up £500 of tender Wagyu fillet of beef which comes from cattle raised in such a relaxed state they are even given massages. With the beef secured he picked up some Matsutake mushrooms. For those unfamiliar with these fungal fineries (like I was) it is extremely valuable, so much so that they are harvested under guard in China due to their declining harvests. These go for £500 a kilo!! Add to that more gourmet fungus with the French Bluefoot mushrooms at £200 a kilo and Winter Black truffles at almost £500 a kilo and the price is getting scary.

Deciding that this was not decadent enough it was time to up the ante on the gravy for said pie as well. The gravy base was made with two whole bottles of vintage

1982 Chateau Mouton Rothschild wine at £1,000 a bottle. This Whole thing was wrapped in pastry like any other pie and they stood back looking at their creation with pride. It was then decided that one last touch would give it the look it deserved. The pastry for the "Golden Bon Vivant" pie was covered with edible gold leaf at a price of £100 a sheet.

When it was all done with, Kevin was quoted as saying "They wanted something special and they loved it. It started off as a bit of fun, then we got into it. We just went for the best." The final price tag on this monstrosity lands at an astonishing £8,195!! While I admire the chefs for being able to meet the challenge, and I do love a good meat pie, I can't help but wonder what the hell these lads do for a living. I go mental when my groceries come to more than $150.00 for the week!

I've had some good food, but this one would definitely top the charts for me. I wonder if they have any leftovers they can mail to me?

Still Surviving

MMmmmmmmm.......... Now that's some good eating!

For those of you that remember, I'm a survivor. Not in an inspirational, I thumped a virulent disease is the backside sort of way, but more along the lines of "make a fool of yourself to win stuff". This Saturday saw me back in the Dog Pound for the next tension laced round of Survivor.

We all trucked ourselves down to the bowels of the building to find the organizers waiting with a malicious twinkle in their eye. The only comment they would give us in response to requests for a briefing was "I hope you're all hungry." It was quickly apparent that it was time to prepare for an eating challenge. With images of insects, dog food and raw meat in my mind I followed the rest of the contestants to the battlefield to find two tables waiting for us. The only things on them were a pile of plastic forks and napkins. I was startled at the civility of it all. An eating challenge with utensils?! They were repulsed as they conveyed our challenge targets towards the tables.

Awaiting our eager stomachs were pies the likes of which you won't likely find in any supermarket, unless maybe you are in Russia. Surprisingly, beet, sardine, custard and apple pie is not near as foul as you'd expect (unless you hate any of the individual ingredients). We waited for our cue and as a bevy of horrified onlookers groaned in disgust we plowed through our pies. Given the signal to cease and desist all pie consuming activities we awaited the judgment. Despite having the numbers on our side we were just edged out by Tribe Bruiser. It was time to prepare for the vote.

As we were waiting I was signaled by my official photographer, Jodster. He told me that since we were all bent down like pigs at a trough he was unable to capture any pictures of the actual pie consumption. Given my nature as an attention whoring buffoon I deftly snatched the now empty crust remains from the table and began to consume pies of crust. If he had gotten the pictures and everything else had remained constant that would have been it, but I saw the organizers grimace when I picked up the pie and heard the proclamations of disgust from the crowd around our tables as I popped the first bite in my mouth. While we were waiting for the vote to begin I wandered around offering the pie to all the kids that had rushed down to get themselves on the big screen.

With my repellent pie eating out of the way it was voting time so we got down to business. After picking some pie related overspray out of the emcee's hair we began our vote. The first attempt resulted in a split vote of two each for Gary and Barb with a vote for me in the mix (I guess not everybody likes a lunatic). We went back to the ballots for a final decision to send Gary back to the stands. This coming weekend will see us back at it for round three. Will our tribe Habs be able to prevail or will we go back to the vote? Will I manage to evade the votes or am I a goner on our next loss? Only time will tell.

Click here to see the official Bulldogs survivor page. Check out the promo video we had to shoot and figure out who's who when you watch the audition videos.

I could really use an antacid right about now.

Just so you know, sardine, beet, custard and apple pie goes down fairly easy but doesn't sit too well. Was it the quantity or the content? I don't intend to try again to find out, but if you feel inclined to experiment let me know how it goes.

Mouse-B-Gone

Well it's that time already. Last week I asked for your suggestions of a mousetrap design to rid me of my newfound houseguests. While I got a few suggestions by email most of them were pretty boring so I combined elements of the emails to come up with a solution. Someone, I think it was Gimpy, asked if I had played the Incredible Machine before and that just snowballed from there. I have yet to locate my old disks (That's right folks, games once fit on a few floppy disks!) so I had to put pen to paper.

Take that you flour eating bastards!!!

Once I had my plan devised it was time to implement it. The hardest part was cutting into the gas line to install the flamethrower without blowing the house up, but I got it all done and set up. Unfortunately I couldn't find a feasible method of automatically resetting the trap so I have to manually reset it each time, but it works like a charm. After the first two kills the smell of crispy mice was too much for the wife so I had to resort to plain old mousetraps with chocolate chips on them.

Half a bag of chocolate chips, a few battered knuckles and more than a few hurled expletives later I have either:

A - Successfully eradicated the little buggers
Or

B - Convinced them to move to more hospitable climes
Of course there is always the possibility that their absence is a sign of a rodent revolution in which case I could be in serious trouble once they mount their counter-offensive. Just in case I have invested in bulletproof kevlar socks and have disposed of all the chocolate sources in my house (My belly is sooooo sore right now). The tiny radar early warning system is coming this afternoon so I can set up some perimeter defenses (You gotta love ebay).

HNT #14

It's a brand new year and I'm giving you the gift of a two part HNT today.

This one may be considered a little graphic for some so this one is rated HD13 - HNT'er discretion is advised, as well as some rolaids.

For want of a better title I'm going with "Time for the Holidays"

If you've wondered what havoc time can wreak on a holiday, then feast your eyes on these marvels of chronological mayhem.

Out with the old and in with the new as they say.

For the New I've got our nekkid Christmas tree, so fresh that it is sprouting new growth

And for the old......This should help those of you who made those crazy New Year's resolutions to shake a few pounds.

My Halloween jack-o-lanterns of days gone by (click here to see them in their hydrated state).

That's right Martini, there is such a thing as keeping them too long!

Out With The Old

With the sting of the New Year still burning my brain I find myself stumbling into it with my eyes stinging from the bright and shining possibilities.

No ...... wait ...... that's just fatigue. Thanks for all your well wishes. The little guy is doing much better and now we have medications and doctors' appointments to use to minimize and evaluate whatever damage,if any, may have occurred. Oh, and there's stuff for him to get better too.

Since this was delayed I missed out on all the stereotypical New Year's fun so I'm doing it now dammit! I am not a resolution kind of person but if I had to make one I suppose I would go with this for an idea. Pick a couple of blogs you frequent, preferably some older ones, and have a dig through their archives. Sure we all know about today's news, but what of the origins and their past of the bloggers we stalk on a regular basis? Some may be creepy and wild like comic book characters, others may be a little more fanciful like a fairy tale, but you won't know if you don't wander back and take a boo.

Hell if you want a laugh you may want to go back and look at your own!! I did that and I still can't figure out what keeps you folks coming back but thanks for your patronage! I'm touched you want to spend your time here.

In that same train of thought, although my train seems to have no track, I noticed a neat idea floating about in which you dig through your blog archives and throw up a favourite post or two of yours. Your "best post" as it were. Since I haven't been at this all that long and to be honest, pretty much like them all or I wouldn't have posted them. I invite you to dig through my archives and suggest your favourite Rainy entries. You are, of course, allowed to call me out on the fact that you are making an entry for me and protest, but do whichever makes you feel good. I can go on about me all day, but it's always interesting to see what you have written that people feel that they really connected with. Here's your chance to have your say. I will leave you with Rainy Pete's toast to the new year;

Here's to the new year, and if it's anything like the last one then here's to single malt scotch!

Happy New Year

Well it's a New Year. 2006 is upon us and I can only say good riddance. Aside from the birth of our son in August, 2005 seemed like a pretty bleak year, even for a positive sort of soul such as myself. If it were a child it would have received coal for Christmas. Nature, politics and the world in general seemed to have decided that 2005 should be as crappy as possible. There were many horrific occurrences this year, such as the birth of this blog, so it seemed only fitting that a year destined to be as crappy as possible not disappoint. Yes 2005 can now go rot in whatever chronological hell awaits it. I haven't been this happy to see the back end of anything since I got that swimsuit calendar. So given the state of the year in general it was with no surprise and a cruel and ironic twist that I found myself exactly where I was 31 years ago to the day.

Our Christmas had gone remarkably better than last year's, but when you consider last year's saw all but myself crippled with some mystery uber-virus that caused bodies to expel fluid from whatever available orifice it could find that's a pretty low bar to get over. I had logged my last two working days in the year and was headed home for a nice 3 day weekend. I walked in the door only to find the wife holding what I thought was dinner. It was tightly wrapped and smoking hot. It turns out that said parcel was not dinner at all, but was in fact the Rainybaby! Yes folks he had decided to attempt a burst into flames, the likes of which not been seen since Johnny Storm. Since we were fairly sure that his superpowers have not yet developed, it was determined that the medicines that had been applied to knock down his minor fever were failing and it was time for some professional attention. The wife bundled him up and took him to the walk in clinic that works in place of our regular doctor whenever he is unavailable.

After a few hours of turning him this way and taking samples of various fluids it was determined that he likely was fighting a urine infection. The wife came home, as she was about to fall over from fatigue, and it was my turn to run him to the next stop, the emergency room. It was clear that any plans I had made for the next night were about to end up here. I decided to jump in the van and make a run for it. Saving a bunch of money on gas by placing his flaming body on the dashboard to heat the cabin as we raced down to the emergency room. Upon our arrival I was dismayed to find that the admissions nurse wasn't allowed to medicate the poor little guy and neither should I.

The pediatrician was to be along shortly so I wasn't worried. After an hour of his steadily climbing temperature we were ushered into a room where the pediatrician told us that they would return in a minute or two. After two more hours they finally sent a nurse in to check him out and after finding his temperature all the way up to 104F a flurry of activity ensued. Before I knew what to do a catheter, and IV and a dose of meds were all applied to him.

We were dispatched to the upper floors to get some rest. Since it was 4:00am we were comfortably resting by about 4:30 only to be awakened by 8:00 for vitals checks and a battalion of other sleep destroying activities. We passed the time playing with Rainyjakob's new friend Standly the IV pole. After a while we were dispatched to the lower levels of the building where his body could be pummelled with sounds waves would have dolphins pounding on the walls screaming "Cut that racket out, we're trying to get some sleep down here.

After a few more shots of meds through Standly we were given the prognosis from the doctor who said that the little guy was on the mend and we only had to spend two days with Standly.

Needless to say this was well received by the little fella. The only complication was that they will have to have him back in once he is well recovered for a few tests to make sure that his innards all are doing what they should. That certainly go his attention.

The good thing is that he seems pretty content about coming home though.

All in all it was a pretty crappy way to spend a birthday and a New Years. So now it's your turn. What fun things did you do this New Year's Eve, or if you don't like that then regale us with tales of your worst birthday. Come on now people don't be shy. You've just read a post on how foul baby pee can impact the holidays.