You know how everyone's been saying it was just a matter of time before track bearing robots from outer space would arrive on Earth?
Well now they're here!
New metal overlords!
What a start to the year!
Wow.
Huh.
January 3, 2016
I live in Canada where frozen lakes abound and yet I have skated outside only a handful of times as an adult. Growing up in the Midwest, we always skated outside. I have broken through the Miami River, the Olentangy River and completely fallen into a large spring fed pond on the fringes of the Ohio State campus on a cold January afternoon going after a puck in the reeds where the ice closed to a vanishing point and could no longer support my weight. Hmm, now that I think of it, maybe there's a reason I don't skate outdoors anymore.
January 4, 2016
Dear Keith Ryan Publishing, will you publish my first novel? Below is an excerpt.
Thanks, Denny
Joanne was worried that Freddie would never pay back the money he owed, the money he borrowed to pay for Chelsea's breast enhancement, even though he told Joanne he needed the moola to pay for Chelsea's cancer surgeries, both to be performed by Doctor Hank, cash only, under the table, at his home, in his den actually, where he had set up a make shift operating room just for doing breast enhancements and cancer surgeries on the side. Joanne frowned. She knew Doctor Hank. He had once groped her at an interoffice Christmas party and told her she needed bigger breasts. But cancer was cancer so Freddie got the money and Chelsea got her big breasts and only Joanne got burned in the whole charade. Later, when she ran into Chelsea on the street and saw her enormous new breasts, full head of hair, and that she had actually gained a little weight, Joanne knew Chelsea never had cancer and that she had been duped by Freddie and that she was never getting her money back. Joanne got mad. Joanne got crazy mad. Joanne went home and hired a hit man off the Internet to kill Freddie and Doctor Hank.
There's more, of course. It really gets exciting! So how does this work? Will you just send me a contract? Denny.
Dear Denny,
Nah.
January 6, 2016
At a hockey game I heard a father admonishing his son to be "more frivolous". The son asked what frivolous meant. The father said, "It means to be mean. It means that you should treat your opponent meanly, frivolously." Aw, that's not what frivolous means. Should I tell them? Would it help? Would it make one bit of difference?
January 8, 2016
I couldn't help myself, a pedant at heart - words are my tools! tee hee - I turned to the father after the kid had skated away and told him what frivolous really meant. He listened, then leaned back and looked me up and down like how would I know. "So I have been using the word all wrong and it's made me look stupid in front of a stranger. Thanks." I couldn't tell if the guy was pissed, being genuinely grateful or trolling me.
January 9, 2016
Stuff breaks. Stuff always breaks. But all at once? In the span of 24 hours, both our washer and dryer broke, the oven broke and the TV died. One right after the other. You can ignore that sort of thing or you can seriously think about just what the hell is going on.
January 11, 2016
I'm in a poetic mood. You know, when I was small, my mother would get me humorous books of poetry by Ogden Nash and Shel Silverstein. Now, as an adult, my book shelves have Whitman and Neruda, Heaney and others, but today I feel like joining their august ranks and making up my own piece of word art. Ahem. I call this Green Roses.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
But what if they were green?
The roses I mean.
Thank you. Thank you very much. Modern Anthology of Poetry editors, your move.
Right in between the two beautifully kept modest homes, a greedy developer threw up a garish, two story, flaming red hotel with plans to add a golf course, zip line, helipad and 5 star French restaurant. His goal was to turn Park Place into the destination for the rich and famous, but first he had to get rid of "the squatters" as he called them. Initially, he thought he'd just burn the houses down but was afraid his hotel might catch fire, so he hired a bunch of thugs to intimidate the families but they just took his money and went whoring, so he greased the palms of city council to seize the houses under eminent domain and throw the families out on their ears. When the bad press caught up to him, the greedy developer declared, "I make no bones about it, my goal is to create a monopoly. It's all a game to me."
January 15, 2016
This was the description of Seinfeld from a hotel TV guide:
He is a clever sod, she a cheeky monkey, and their friend, a petty bastard. Their real names are Jerry, Elaine and George. Jerry plays a comedian but he's really the straight man for Elaine, who is a goofball mess up and George, a grumbling mean sour puss who bitches about every little thing and thinks life is unfair, unjust and other un things he can't think of right now. In this episode, Jerry never laughs once, Elaine laughs too many times at the wrong things and George bitches about everyone having a good time while he is suffering. The characters, like many from New York, are basically unlikeable people, but in their ickiness is a gold mine of laughs. Recommended.
It's the middle of January in Canada where snow is king, cold is your constant companion and frostbite is the mean neighbour who lives down the street. You work outside because you're a real man. Lesser mortals ask: But how do you get through the day? Because it's the law that every Canadian home has a wood burning fireplace, you brave the elements daydreaming about how awesome it will be to settle down in front of yours, a drink in one hand, these toasty slippers on your feet, the day's toils behind you.
January 19, 2016
Overheard at lunch.
-- I don't care, Lisa. You have to leave with the one who brought you.
-- You were there. That guy was hot. He was all over me. I'm supposed to ignore him so I can go home with charity case Evan?
-- You were on a date, Lisa. You just can't pick up with another guy and forget you're on a date with Evan.
-- Well I did.
-- You sure did.
-- We went straight to a motel. I don't even know his name. Turns out he's married anyway. So what did you do after we left?
-- I took Evan home and he spent the night.
-- What! You had sex with my boyfriend?!
-- You're a real piece of work, Lisa.
-- You're a real piece of work, Gina!
January 21, 2016
It's letter answerer day.
Dear Keith Ryan,
My name is Larry and I'm a personal trainer in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Residents of Moose Jaw are known as Moose Javians. You're from Salmon Arm. Are you guys known as Salmon Armites? Salmon Armenians? Salmon Armers? What?
Dear Larry,
Yes.
Dear Keith Ryan,
If you're an aspiring writer like me and most people agree that your work is fan-tastic and they're not just saying that because they're your friends and family, but some weirdo guy disagrees and slags you off in front of everybody and then leaves like he's all hot shit, do you go out and hunt that guy down and let's be frank, do him harm, or do you hire your cousin Lamar to put the fear of god in him if you know what I mean and I think you do, you know, just to keep your name out of it?
Dear Whomever,
No. No.
Dear Keith Ryan,
Let's face it, I'm never going to find the guy of my dreams. I'm the definition of a spinster: I just turned 47, I haven't had a date in four years, I live with my sick mother, we have cats. My question is whether I would be desperate enough to go out with a meathead like Larry from Moose Jaw or that psycho writer who wants to kill his critics in the above letter? Am I that desperate?
Dear Desperate,
The cats need you. Your mother needs you. Is that not enough?
January 23, 2016
She wanted to be a chef. So (sugar) Daddy bought her a restaurant. She ran it into the ground. She decided she wanted to be a fashion editor. So Daddy bought her a magazine. It floundered, became a laughing stock, then died an ignominious death. She decided she wanted to race boats. Daddy bought her a 3,000 horsepower unlimited hydroplane and she sunk it in Seattle at Seafair in front of a million people, like a good captain, going down with the ship. Daddy held a giant funeral service in her honor, then not a month later married another pretty young thing with aspirations. Yes, this is the world we live in.
Think, Lucy, think! Is it Swan Lake or On Swan Pond?
January 26, 2016
Everybody always focuses on the negative stuff. Are you stressed? Anxious? Can't sleep, feel useless? Focussing on it reinforces it. So why not focus on what's going right? Are you contented, happy, bemused, healthy, enlightened, aware, kind, considerate? What's working for you? What is going right? What's good about you? Dwell on that.
January 27, 2016
Oh god, yet another clueless celebrity gets caught with his pants down and apologizes for his gaffe invoking the trite excuse and meaningless phrase, I'm not perfect. He says he did what he did because he's not perfect. He begs for forgiveness because he's not perfect. Gak. What a sordid excuse for not taking responsibility for your actions, what sorry, lamentable, useless twaddle, I'm not perfect, is. I say phooey on your fake apology. I do.
January 28, 2016
Overheard on the street.
-- Shut up. You're not the boss of me.
-- Until you turn 18 I am.
-- I hate you.
-- That's so lovely to hear from one's daughter.
-- You're just a bitch.
-- Pearls of wisdom from my own spawn.
-- I can't wait until I go back with Dad next week.
-- That's two of us, honey.
January 29, 2016
A key to happiness begins with a single question: Would you be doing what you're doing even if you didn't make any money doing it? If you answered yes, then you know happiness is literally in the doing. If you answered no, then you will never be truly happy in your work because the work is not what keeps you doing it, the money does. What do you love so much that you would do it for free? What dream job would you love to go to every day? Happiness starts with the pursuit of that.
January 30, 2016
I saw a very attractive woman in a kilt. I thought women weren't supposed to wear kilts? I asked her about it and she said it wasn't a kilt, it was a tartan skirt. I said a kilt is a tartan skirt. She said, Oh well, then I guess it's a kilt! But not really, I said, as with a kilt, no undergarments are to be worn. Hers eyes lit up. I'm not! I'm rocking a kilt, the right way, without even knowing it! Some Scottish person somewhere must be turning over in their grave.
January 31, 2016
January's done. Tough month, eh. Somewhere along the way you had to give up your New Year's resolutions, you had to admit that with the New Year nothing really changed in your life even though you promised yourself it would, and of course, now that the drunken flush of a New Year is complete toast, you look ahead to see honestly, that the coming 11 months don't hold a lot of promise either. Now February's up. Has anything good ever happened in February?
