Sharkboy

This morning DR and I decided to put our cameras to the test and challenged each other to a little photo essay. We’ve done it a couple of times in the past and it was time for a rematch. We chose the Beach area this time. And you are the judges…

We took the streetcar from outside the door, took a detour on Broadview and then rode all the way to Neville Park.

Quiet morning street

Always be aware of where you’re standing

Arriving at our destination

Pebble beach

Cotton candy beach scene

No wheels allowed past the fence

Future NHLers by the beach

Flying

Beach life in February

At the fence

Sweet ride

Meanwhile, Troopy the Stormtrooper was on an adventure of his own when his enemy Sborger the Destroyer escaped from his cell and was on a mission to destroy the Beach area. Troopy promised he’d find him and stop his evilness.

Troopy searching his empire of signs of his enemy

Troopy finds a map to help him out

Finding destruction, he must be nearing Sborger. Maybe past the glaciers…

Troopy must climb icy obstacles

Taking a rest, knee deep in snow, no Wampas in sight thankfully.

From atop a high tree, he sees Sborger… he must be stopped.

Back on firm ground, trudging through waist deep obstacles…

Finally finding tracks of Sborger’s ride, definitely nearing the bastard…

Pew! Pew! The Destroyer is destroyed…

The future looks bright

Now check out DR’s pictures on his blog and decide who should get the bragging rights to best pictures…

In all the things that get me all paranoid in life, one is definitely at the top: body odour… I try and obey the law of cleanliness and take at least one shower or one bath every day. I use a soap that has a nice fragrance, an antiperspirant that’s odorless, then I rub body lotion all over (or else I get the hose (little Silence of the Lamb humour)), then I use a coconut and lime scented lotion on my feet before I put on my socks, use some more of it for my hands. I finish it all with a spray of cologne on my neck and a spray on my wrists. I’m pretty confident that unless I run a couple of marathons I’ll be smelling fresh all day long. I do this so I don’t have to worry about people thinking I’m the one that’s smelling up the environment should a bad smell arise.

I am paranoid about this so much that I keep deodorant at work just in case…

Yesterday I was in line to pay for some fresh jujubes at the Bulk Barn. They have 4 cashiers but only one line to wait into. 4 people in front of me is this really weird acting lady, her clothes seem a tad worn but otherwise not necessarily out of today’s fashion. Her hair is a mess but she covered it with a knitted beret. It’s ugly but it’s cold outside so she’s allowed. It’s her turn at the cash and she’s talking up a storm with the cashier who looks like she’s not that interested. The cashier is somewhat grimacing… Of course when it’s my turn, I end up at that exact cashier and say: “I promise I’ll be a lot quicker.” I hand her my bag AND my money at the same time. And then I smell it. Shit. It smells like shit. Like a used diaper. It’s pretty strong and of course my paranoia kicks in and I NEED TO MAKE SURE everyone around knows I’m not responsible. So I look around both sides of me and back at the cashier and go: “Good lord, that lady should wear a different perfume.” And I give a little nervous laugh… The cashier gets it, she laughs, hands me my change and reach for a bottle of hand sanitizer…

It’s Saturday night.
DR is watching a movie called The Beaver and I’m snoring away next to him.
The telephone rings. Yes we still have a land line I refuse to disconnect.
I woke up from a daze and grab the receiver, check the name on the display for good measure, it says KNIGHT, R. I don’t know anyone named KNIGHT.

me: Hello?
her: hello?
me: yes!!!
her: yes.
(3 seconds of pure silence)
her: What kind of dog do you have?
me: I don’t have a dog!
her: How come I can hear a dog barking at your place?
me: The only thing I can hear right now is a cunt!
her: A cunt?
me: yes

By this time I was fully awakened and hung up.

My brain was running a 100 miles a minute to try and figure out the riddle. We used to play telephone games in the 70′s all the time, they were totally anonymous, there wasn’t any name display or call backs then. I know the one about the the fridge running but couldn’t think of any telephone games with a dog barking… so I came up with the answer I knew would end it right away…

Just in case you’re wondering what a cunt sounds like, you can definitely call and see: KNIGHT, R at 416-740-6604, maybe she can explain the barking dog joke. Then, be nice and leave the answer in my comment box. Thanks guys.

By the way I’m aware of the irony of watching The Beaver and my calling her that name…