It’s Been One Week

Full of asshats.
New boss is an asshat and is very angry.
Five days of near slavery,
Saying asshats galore, get the hell away from me.
Two days in the living room,
Another asshat comes, but this time was virtual.
Yesterday, I’d flamed her,
But it’ll be never before I say I’m sorry.

Not much changes in the world of me. My life’s a war, and for some fucked up reason, all the asshats gravitate towards me. I mean, come on, can’t these pieces of biological waste get a hobby or something?

This one, however, has. She seems to find people like me, who stand against America (for me, it’s simply the Americanization of Canada). She has, as you have now realized following the link, taken on a war against anti-Americanism (isn’t that just as futile as taking on a war against another concept, such as terrorism)? And just to show you where I stand (as it seems I’m highly misunderstood). America is fine. Within limits. For me, just south of 49 will do. And they can have Toronto to boot. I had a choice to live permanently there, but I chose to stay in the Great White North. Why? Health care and not living in a culture of fear were good reasons.

Not to say that America doesn’t have great strengths. I just want to enjoy Canadian strengths. Hockey. Beer. To put a defining point on my beef, take a full college or university program on Canadian Film studies. The lack of funding for good Canadian content is a real sore spot with me.

Still, this ‘person’ chose to hammer this post and the About Me page on here, prior to writing this post about how we Canadians are ‘insecure about our southern neighbours’. Now, instead of defaming her on this site, just read all the comments to see what a nutjob she really is. My favourite bit though still is these two points.

1. I got banned! Woohoo! Break out the champagne! Cocktails! It’s been a while since someone has blacklisted me from their blog. And I’d thought I’d lost my touch!

2. ‘Apparently’, my ass was handed to me. ‘Apparently’, I’m pissed. News to me. Time for another celebratory drinky poo!

And finally, in sheer celebration, my latest bobblehead:

So, from Darth Stewie unto you Candy/Virgo Monkey/flavour of the week girl, I say to you this parting phrase:

If you can’t take a joke, don’t be one.

Now for your airlocking:

Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.

P.S. Grow my city’s industry.

New Term Friday… on Saturday

I like the idea of having themes for days. It saves the writer’s block. I just wish I had the energy to write something yesterday after Battlestar Galactica and our walk. As such, from Urban Dictionary, I give you

FUCKTARD. I like definition number six.

In an sentence:

There are far too many fucktards in the world, and they all seem to gravitate towards me. Auggghhh!

Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.

P.S. Help my city grow.

Douchebag

From Urban Dictionary (select definitions):

douchebag
n. fr. “douche”, fr. French, fr. Italian “doccia”

1. An object used for vaginal hygeine.
2. A person with a shitty personality that needs to “take themself the fuck down” or “go home and get their fucking shine box.” A douchebag usually assumes the form of a hair-gelling pretty-boy but can also be described as an overzealous, pompous, or vexatious asshole that most people wish were killed with a Mortal Kombat fatality.
3. An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intellegence, behaving ridiculously in front of colleagues with no sense of how moronic he appears.

This comment appears in Wikipedia:

Terms such as shower pocket, douchebag, d-bag, DB or simply douche are popular terms of insult or ridicule in the United States, Canada and the United Kingdom. The slang usage of the term dates back to the 60s. Initially, it was used to insult a woman, however, over time it has become a term mostly used to refer to men.

Two South Park episode titles feature slang use of “douche”. The Biggest Douche in the Universe criticizes purported medium John Edward, and Douche and Turd parodies the 2004 United States Presidential Election.

I would like to add two definitions of my own:

4. Brian Griffin.

You see, Stewie wrote Douchebag on Brian’s grave in Family Guy Presents Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story. Besides, I think it fits Brian’s character.

5. Any spineless asshole who crosses the line with Dawn.

I suppose I should give some context surrounding that last one. To start, the last few days, Dawn has been less than chipper, with my work schedule and her increasing realization that her friends she keeps in touch with online are staying in touch with much less frequency. This reality was hammered home when her friend Angel, declared she would be heading back to Arizona from Iowa to attend a funeral, and would be staying there permanently. Without her PC or going online. Losing touch with Angel took it’s toll on Dawn, and decided to write this post, if for any other reason, to help her deal with things right now.

Enter Douchebag. On the comments, this individual refers to themselves as Lol (ironically they do not make me laugh, let alone out loud). But for the purposes herein, Douchebag fits nicely. Douchebag leaves this shocking comment after a heartfelt post.

“Becca was a friend I met in the IRC chatrooms 2 years ago. She suffered a devastating blow of the worst kind earlier this year, when her husband to be was killed in a freak accident four hours before their wedding was to take place.”

You don’t believe that crap do you? Nowhere on the internet or in any newspaper was any car crash reported that day. It was all a lie. Why else do you think she vanished?

Wow. Douchebag, I sure hope you are not any sort of physician, because your bedside manner is just plain dogshit. What a completely loving response to a heartfelt post, don’t you think?

Needless to say, Dawn did not leave this comment unanswered…

As a matter of fact I DO believe her. I have no reason not to, plus having spoken to her, I know how shattered she is.

Not every accident is reported either - far from it.

Oh, and she didn’t vanish. She has been in touch with another mutual friend of mine just recently.

I would finally ask that you please don’t come to my blog and insult my friends whom you know nothing about. I don’t know you, or who you are, but I find what you’re doing rather distasteful.

And I soon followed suit…

Babe, I feel so sorry that you lost three close friends (well in contact) in the last little while. I know you put up with a lot of alone time with the crazy hours I do work, I do hope you get back in touch at some point.

Lol, I just have one question. What day was this crash supposed to have happened. Because, if you actually READ this post, it’s not mentioned. Do you like to stir shit and upset people as a hobby, or are you just plain daft?

But the ever clever know it all, Douchebag, herein had an answer to prove both of us wrong.

“Not every accident is reported either - far from it.”

A supposed fatal accident on the morning of a wedding would be ALL OVER the newspapers - especially the local papers - and there wasn’t one single mention on it. Not one in the entire world. Nothing on the internet. Nothing even on the Cornwall Police web site.

Stop kidding yourself. An old woman can trip over in a supermarket and it makes the news - You’re really trying to say such a “freak accident” as this is reported nowhere?

Find some links reporting the “crash”. Bet you can’t.

No wedding, no car crash. Probably no bridegroom either. Your “friend” was living a fantasy life. You’re not the only one to have been taken in by her.

Also, you said she’s been in touch with “a mutual friend” and not replied to your emails. Why would that be? Stop kidding yourself.

- “What day was this crash supposed to have happened”

Saturday May 27th 2006. I like the way you said “supposed”. You know it’s a pack of lies too

You got any links to this “crash” Jeff? RetardedRugrat is just going to rant and rave at me because she knows I’m right but perhaps you can find them?

Now, I would like to iterate that the point of this post is not to debate as to whether or not the crash happened. I stand by my woman 100%, 100% of the time. Rather, I am here to fully attack Douchebag, as it seems he’s in a fighting mood.

Douchebag, what are you trying to accomplish pointing out the fact that you can’t find a link to the crash. Are you honestly that vain that you have to surf site to site to find little flaws and flaunt the flaw as a justification to call a post/article/event a complete lie or scam? Does this little satisfaction replace the sense of failure you feel every time you stroke your three centimeter phallus? Of course the last statement is assuming you’re male, to which if you are, you are a poor substitute for a real man, as it is obscenely obvious you have absolutely NO BOLLOCKS.

But let’s look at this academically. If you’re right, wouldn’t it be more couth to broach the subject with a bit of discretion and compassion, seeing as at least one person’s (yup, that’s Dawn) feelings are taken into consideration. But rather, you decided to stroke your poor excuse for an ego, as your triumph over lies told over the internet continues.

However, if you’re wrong, which you are, then you’ve gone and upset the woman I love simply over your obsessive need to internet stalk and be right while making others wrong. Douchebag, your are a sick, SICK individual.

I seriously thought of sharing Douchebag’s email publically, but hesitated on two counts. First, it might violate terms of use with WordPress. Second, all it would do is send more spam to your spam folder. So, I had this two suggestion.

Since Douchebag more than likely doesn’t stalk my blog (well yet, until this post goes hardcore), so for those diligent readers who feel the same as I do, post a message to the comments, and I’d email comments to him EVERY EVENING, and provide updates. However, the fucking coward has neither a website listed NOR a legitimate email. ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING BOLLOCKS, YOU COWARD. STAND AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN.

As such, I open the floor to suggestions as to keep rubbing salt into a newly opened wound for Douchebag. Updates will be provided.

To Douchebag, I would like to say this. I am not a violent, vengeful, or vindictive man. But fuck with my family, and watch that all change.

That is all.

The Gong Show

In American popular culture, the Gong Show was a variety show spoof, where amatuer performers did their act in front of celebrity judges. The judges were given the right, that if they felt an act was considerably bad, they could hit a gong to end it immediately. Though my memories of the show are sketchy and fragmented at best, the memories that do bring the best feelings and greatest amount of mirth would be when two celebrity judges were in disagreement with an act, and would be fighting one another to try to hit the gong or not.

And just think, Simon Fuller has ripped off the entire concept nearly 30 years later with all the “Idol” shows in Europe and North America. Just his host, Simon Cowell, doesn’t have the physical gong behind him.

However, I would like to add one more piece to this bit of popular culture:

GONG SHOW

A show, feature film, television, or direct to video, that is so horribly disorganized at the producing levels, that even department keys don’t have any idea of what is going on at the current moment, let alone a solid outline for enough advance days that they can have the appropriate crew and gear to execute their tasks professionally.

But I really shouldn’t complain. Not more than a month ago I was still doing shifts at Best Buy, limiting my film work. Now I get paid for an eight hour day after 3 hours of standing around waiting for instructions that aren’t coming because the “celebrity judges”, so to speak, are fighting amongst themselves as to whether or not to hit the gong. And the pay rate is much better too.

That is all.