Dear cell phone users…

To the people with a novelty “musical” ring tone on their cell phone: Do you know how bloody irritating that is??

At least with a normal ring, people can speak (and think) between rings. But your continuous electronic crap drowns out everything around you.

What made you think that anyone wants to hear a mechanized bastardization of Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven? What made you think that the “funky” ring was even remotely entertaining (or funky for that matter)? And what makes you think that it’s in any way “cute” or “sophisticated”, when it blasts out in a quiet coffee shop, causing everything to come to a halt until you decide to fumble through your belongings to answer it?

And finally, to the person on the sixth floor with a novelty ring tone who won’t answer the phone when it rings: if you let it run through twenty repetitions of “William Tell” again, don’t be surprised if a certain blogger demonstrates how you can make a cell phone more operate more quietly with the correct application of a ball-pein hammer.

Lethal foods

An MSN Messenger conversation with my brother:

Steve says: i just got back from Shabusen. i’m full of tuna sashimi.

Matt says: mmmmmmm. i haven’t had good sashimi in oh…forever. the last trip to MEC destroyed my fancy eatin’ fund. the only fancy eatin’ i been doin’ is when mum and dad came to town. sigh. oh well…i like grilled cheese.

Steve says: grilled cheese is good stuff. it contains a full helping of vitamin G

Matt says: mmm, cheese sweat. i was grilled cheesin’ it up the other day, and hit an actual pocket of liquid cheese fat. it was by far the most revolting experience i’d had in hours.

Steve says: you haven’t tried the ‘New York Deli’ pizza from Panagopolous, have you?

Matt says: negatory…

Steve says: it’s mozza, cheddar, and five different fatty meats.

Steve says: when you get the box, the grease has completely soaked through.

Steve says: a slice can kill a grown man

Steve says: that is, if you freeze it first and ram it into his neck.

Steve says: it takes practice and a lot of training to kill a man with a slice of pizza

Steve says: but i digress

Matt says: i done it a few times, back in ‘nam, when the ammo was running low.

Steve says: i wonder what other foods could be a lethal weapon

Matt says: carrots for sure, too. all those pointy root vegetables. octopus? you could use the suckers to give a lethal hickey.

Steve says: ooh. that would be a horrible way to go.

Matt says: good lord. i can’t think of it.

Steve says: spagetti?

Matt says: if you braided a whole bunch of spagetti noodles together to make a rope…

Fish-and-rice feast

Today I partake in that eternal office ritual known as the Goodbye Lunch. Two longtime employees are leaving for “other opportunities”, so we’re taking them out to lunch.

The location: Shabusen. This all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant has been the location of many distressing sushi incidents. At my last job, the development department used to go to Shabusen at least once a month. One programmer was notorious for ordering ten plates of every kind of roll there was, including the cucumber maki: the most boring sushi imaginable. Shabusen is also the place that serves their tuna sashimi so fresh that it’s still frozen in the middle.

On the other hand, the price is pretty good. It’s about ten dollars (Canadian) to engorge yourself on raw fish and rice, and they even have a selection of cooked foods too, although the chicken and beef dishes are a little sketchy.

I’ll let you know how it goes. If I survive.

Setting the tone

Because I’m starting out in this new blog, I’d like to make an effort to set the correct tone. I feel that I should establish the level of critical thinking that I’ll… um… something. I forgot what I was saying.

In the meantime, I woke up this morning with some interesting words in my head. Like vociferous. Isn’t vociferous a nice round word? Vociferous.

And tangential. Whenever I hear that word, I remember a fellow student in a literature class who kept saying “tan-genitally”, which means something very different. She also referred to “Oh-dipius Rex”. Well, that kind of entertainment made the class worth going to.

It’s time for the morning meeting, now, so I must rush off and report my progress to department heads. So many heads. Hiring heads is a good way for a company to save money on chairs.

Geek in toy land

Well, they say that every man has his vice. Mine… er, one of mine… is a weakness for geeky things.

On the weekend, I went to Toys ‘R’ Us to see if I could dig up something for my niece’s birthday. She’s an artistic type, so I usually like to pick up some interesting implements for drawing, painting, and general mayhem that produces lasting stains on flat surfaces. This time, however, I was completely at a loss.

I have to admit, my expertise in modern toy stores extends only as far as the LEGO shelf, although I probably shouldn’t admit to that. What do kids like these days? Back in my day, X number of decades ago, I would have flipped for a USS Flagg GI Joe aircraft carrier. I think my parents bought me the Manta GI Joe windsurfer instead. They just didn’t get it.

Or maybe they did, and they were trying to bring me around from the darkside of warmongering. It’s always so difficult to instill positive values in a child.

When I was a child, I instinctively knew the layout of the standard toy store. On one side, there were the cool things: the action figures and accessories, the guns and gadgets, and various sporting goods. On the other side: the girl stuff. If you accidentally crossed the dividing line between them, you would suddenly find yourself in a world where everything has big, cute eyes and the predominant colour is pink. This is quickly followed by a hasty retreat to the safety of the mucous-like rubber toys in aisle two.

On the weekend, my objective was deep in pink territory. Girl stuff. Nieces like things like little puppy play sets and Barbies. Right? I have to admit, I have no idea.

What did she play with? I must have seen her playing with something at some point. I’d try to picture it. OK. And then she’d pick up… what? What the hell is she picking up? A doll? No. A play jewelry set? No. A plastic iguana? No!

What then?

As I was puzzling it over, I found myself in the board games section. I was safe in the neutral territory between the boy and girl factions. This is mainly because kids never go into this section. The board games section is strictly for parents and grandparents who want to teach good, healthy values like how to crush your friends in the pursuit of money. The board games section is also for confused, but well-meaning, uncles who panic at Christmas time and send his brother’s kids the Canadian edition of Trivial Pursuits Junior. I bet the plastic wrap is still on that one.

There in front of me, between the Game of Life and NHL Monopoly, was the box from my childhood with the four big, red letters on it: RISK. Suddenly I was swept back into the fields of memory. My brothers and I played endless games of RISK to the point where the box fell to pieces and the seven boxes of playing pieces (and dice) were cracked and broken.

RISK! I remembered the time I figured out that Siam was the key to Asia. And that you should generally avoid Europe. My dad took it a step further by computing the odds in detail and writing his calculations out on thirty sheets of graph paper. He’d hoped to help us play better, but no one could understand his math, and the thirty sheets of calculations sat unread at the bottom of the game box.

I had to buy this game. As I reached for it, the game on the shelf below it caught my eye: Lord of the Rings RISK. Ooooh. The geek in me was intrigued. A map of Middle Earth, eh? Gameplay cards? And… playing pieces in the shape of orcs, trolls, and black riders? Sold.

I walked out of Toys ‘R’ Us a satisfied customer. Oh, and I picked up some Crayola stuff for the niece too.

Lord of the Rings RISK