-- Crispus, don't forget to wear your helmet into battle.
-- Aw Ma, it's too pretty. It'll get all scratched up.
-- Crispus, your father slaved like a slave to make you that helmet and you're damn well gonna wear it.
-- But it's too refined! Why couldn't he have made something cruder. More thug like.
-- Your father is an artist, dear. He likes working with his hands.
-- But I'm a warrior and a killer of vermin!
-- With the prettiest helmet this side of Troy.
-- Oh god, why did he have to make it out of gold. I look like a dork.
-- You look like the most handsome slayer of men ever.
-- People will want to cut my head off just to claim the prize that this helmet would be. It'll probably get me killed.
-- I don't want to disappoint your father and neither do you. Now put that helmet on, grab your sword and go smite.
September 2, 2012
It was a magazine spread on a cool home. I looked at the pictures first. The owners were gorgeous people. And their house was sexy - all the rooms were divided by glass block walls, so you could get an outline of what was going on on the other side, but not really see anything specific. It was a tease. The place looked open because there was light everywhere, but it was also private, and just a tad exhibitionistic; it was sexy. Then I read the accompanying article. He owns a fracking business and still calls environmentalists "hippie scum". His wife was a former Playboy bunny who, by reading her quotes, may or may not have finished the sixth grade. Basically they were awful and stupid rolled into one. By the end of the article I felt sorry for the house.
September 3, 2012
I'm still shaking my head. Ever heard of joggling? Me neither. From Wikipedia: "Joggling is a competitive sport that combines juggling and jogging. People who joggle are called jogglers."
At first glance it doesn't seem like a smart combination, metal threaded through glass. I mean that hole must have zero tensile strength. But my, the panache the hard metal imparts to the bottle! And since the metal pieces act to keep pressure on the stopper when the bottle is closed, it has form and function. The only thing I don't get is how the manufacturer expected the bottle's plain looking contents to compare to the packaging?
September 5, 2012
Got invited over to dinner. Didn't want to go, stupidly said yes anyway. Sat through the whole meal waiting for the earliest moment I might exit. Small talk was interminable. Company was familiar but predictable. Finally, the moment arrives to bid my adieus, and I swear, just as I was about to speak them, the front door opens and in strolls the most ravishing beauty ever. She says cheerily, Sorry I'm late. Hugs and kisses with the others, a forthright walk up to me, close, inside my personal space, cocks her head to the side in a seductive yet playful manner and says, And who are you? My oh my, what a turn of events! So next time you get invited out for a boring dinner to someplace you don't particularly want to go, remember this story.
September 7, 2012
Days ago I burned the inside of my mouth by eating something that was extremely hot. It was annoying and a tad painful but more an inconvenience than a debilitation. That is until my wife wanted to snog. Kissing hurt! But I manned up. Because that's the kind of guy I am.
September 8, 2012
Was out at a friend's house sitting on his back deck chatting and drinking beer. At one point he turns to me and asks if I have ever seen a moose eating Saskatoon berries. I said that I hadn't. He pointed behind my back. I turned around and sure enough there was a moose eating berries off a shrub, in his backyard, 40 feet away. Wow. For the next few minutes we watched as this very big girl browsed. When she left I turned to my friend and said, That was superb. He shook his head in agreement. Once again, the rural life has shown its mettle.
September 9, 2012
A friend of a friend was moving his motorcycle shop to another town and enlisted my help in getting his vintage bikes to the new shop. I got to ride his 1954 Vincent Black Shadow from the old to the new. What a beautiful brute. This bike had it all. The torque. The top end. The looks. I'm still tingling.
A week ago I went up our driveway to check our mailbox and found a squirrel nest in it. The top had been propped open with pine cones and inside was a nest with all kinds of seeds at the bottom. Since we get most of our mail from a P.O. Box downtown, I left it alone. This morning I went up to have another look and saw that the nest had been destroyed. Just some seeds and strewn grasses were left. Another squirrel? A cat? An angry mailman? Dunno, and I can't help but wonder what happened.
September 12, 2012
Someone that was very special to someone I love has left this mortal coil. Back to her source, she is now enveloped in love and understanding, and really, isn't that all anybody dead or alive really wants?
-- Come on, June, just look at it again, one more time - for me.
-- It's too phallic, Harry. If it was too phallic the first time, it's gonna be too phallic every time.
-- Damn it, June, why do you always piss on my parade?
-- It's not a parade, Harry, it's a freakin' penis disguised as a house.
-- The view is fantastic. And the price is right. And just think of the security. No one can rob you 50 feet in the air.
-- 'Course, you could always plunge to your death trying to wash the outside of the windows, fix a loose shingle on the roof, clean the chimney or paint the house, eh, Harry?
-- Piffle, June. I'll manage all those things.
-- Tell me this, Harry, who's gonna carry the groceries up 6 flights of stairs to the kitchen? Who's gonna get up in the middle of the night to let the dog out to pee? 6 flights down. 6 flights up.
-- There must be an elevator. I can't believe they'd build a building like that with only stairs.
-- You can't believe they really sent a man to the moon.
-- That was faked! That I'm sure of. Have you ever been to Utah? I have. It was Utah.
-- Oh my god, Harry, are you having a midlife crisis? My god, Harry, is that what this penis house is to you?!
-- June, you're so dramatic when you're trying to get your way. I know all your tricks.
-- Yeah, well, I'm not moving into a penis.
-- Let's just go by and look at it one more time. That's all I'm asking. Just a look.
-- You want a look? Imagine what that house is going to look like when you light a fire and sparks come flying out of the chimney at the very top? Before long it'll be known as the Harry Colsen Ejaculating Penis House. How will I tell my mother?
-- All right, June, you win. You pick the next house and I'll do my best to piss all over your parade.
-- You're so charming, Harry. A real pig.
-- I'm serious.
-- Me too.
September 15, 2012
At the end of a meeting with a woman who seemed very sure of herself and her company, I was handed her business card and told to call with any further questions. A couple of hours later I thought of something else I should have asked and attempted to ring her from the number on the card. It was a wrong number. Online, I looked up the company and reconnected with her. I told her the phone number on her business card was wrong. She said that's not possible. She said I must have misdialed. I looked at the numbers again. Nope, I said, your business card has transposed two numbers and it's definitely wrong. She got mad. Her voice changed. From a lower register she said I was trying to punk her. She said she didn't like being punked. That maybe the cops would be interested in my little punk prank. Whoa lady, we're done. Really, ever wonder why this kind of stuff seems to happen to me a lot more than it does to the average joe? 'Cause I'm starting to.
What's up with the dragonfly? These guys were here before the dinosaurs. They survived extinction. They fly like no other insect - up, down, right, left, backwards, forwards, and they can hover! They can fly forward at 30 miles an hour. They're 200 million years old! Have we ever seriously considered the possibility that dragonflies and cockroaches are really in control of this planet?
September 17, 2012
I received a rock in the mail. It was postmarked from Israel. It is the size of a toonie, the color of sand and is unpolished. There was no note, no explanation of any kind, and no return address. I wonder who sent it and why. Perhaps I'll never know. Still, it's a lovely rock. Thank you to whomever.
My horoscope for today said that an unknown would turn into a known. And by gar, it just happened. I was out of the loop. Now I'm in the loop. You know, at one time I was the loop. Heck, I founded the loop. I created the loop. But the loop moved on. But now I'm back in the loop. So I guess you could say the loop has come full circle. Isn't that poetic? The merging of art and information, right here, right now, right before your eyes. Ta-duh.
September 19, 2012
In a queue. People chatting amongst themselves. A voice out of nowhere - "Can you please stop talking while I'm trying to talk?!" The whole line shuts up. He continues - "You're idiots! All of you!" Confused looks from one half, smiles from the other.Turns out the guy is wearing a Bluetooth ear set and only half the line can see it. "Shut up! Shut up right now! I'm not having any of it! I'm incompetent?! You're incompetent!" When at last the whole queue catches on to what is happening, it then just becomes flagrantly annoying while everyone is forced to listen to the rest of this guy's rant. Bluetooth, on behalf of my fellow queuers, Thanks awfully much. Not.
September 20, 2012
Big Larry's House of Sex is right next door to Edna's Sex Emporium. Big Larry and Edna used to be married and had a little sex shop called Edna and Larry's House Of Joy. But then they got divorced. But a month later, they got drunk, got remarried, woke up the next day. Then they got divorced again, this time for good, but they both needed the livelihood of the sex shop, only they couldn't work together anymore, so a carpenter came in and put a wall right down the middle. One sex shop became two. Big Larry says they are "living the American dream". Whatever that is.
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
September 22, 2012
I'm standing next to some stranger in front of the washing machines. I see where he is looking, so I said to him, Don't buy that one. That's the one we already have. You see me in here looking at a new one don't you, so your instincts are telling you that if I already own that and it's crappy enough that I'm here looking for its replacement, well, you do the math. He stares at me and says, Qué? (What) Cuánto? (How much). He thinks I'm the salesman. It's official, my charm has ebbed. I steer him to a better washing machine and leave the store, somewhat subdued but happy knowing I could make it as a home appliance salesman if push came to shove.
September 23, 2012
I went looking for Sophie and Maddie. I checked the house and didn't see them. I checked the yard and they weren't in it. How can one misplace two 110 pound dogs? Where are the girls? I hear a muffled murmur. Following the sound I see, on the bed, underneath the bedspread, two lumps, play attacking one another. It's got to be smothering, hot and dark under there, but it's exactly the sort of game sisters play. Later I find them both in the yard digging a mutual hole to China. It's hard to imagine one girl without the other.
Single male seeks the company of a gal who isn't afraid of the deep, dark, damp and cramped. My hole in the ground features fancy circular brickwork and a cool spiral staircase. It's a historic hole, having been in my family for generations. Though conveniently located just off the corner of Clancy and Bray, it's super private once you descend into the subterranean depths. A little about me: I hate sunset walks on the beach. I love love love being underground! If you're into the same, maybe my hole is for you. My name is Josh, call me.
September 25, 2012
It's garbage day so early this morning I took the container to the top of our driveway. Across the road the neighbor's horses were agitated and nervous. I didn't see anything untoward that would cause them to be so antsy and shrugged it off. On my way back down our driveway, out of the corner of my eye, I spy a big black mass just moving into some trees. It was either Bigfoot or a bear. Either of which would make horses nervous and grown men scurry. Yikes.
September 26, 2012
My office has a corner window that tracks the morning sun for perhaps 30 degrees. I have a plant in that window whose leaves follow the sun as it moves across. I will look at it, work some, and then maybe ten minutes later look at the plant again, and it will have turned. The leaves turned, not the plant. The plant is rooted in a pot. It would be silly to think the plant turned a pot. Super plant! Anyway, my point was, It's alive! But frankly, that got diminished when I interjected the leaves turning thing which I did because I feared some of my more fundamental readers might think I have a possessed devil plant in my office. Which I don't. There's no voodoo going on here. I don't know where you heard that. I deny everything. Say, is it hot in here?
September 27, 2012
I was looking at some cartoons and they were smart and hip and funny and I thought, why can't everything be like that?
It came from out of nowhere. A shadowy chimera with raggedy leg and chicken wing arms. When the sun was shining it terrorized Hwy. 34B. People were afraid to drive the road on nice days. Soon, the highway was empty all the time. People were stranded in their houses praying for inclement weather. All because of...it. Would something be done? Would someone act? Who will save them?
September 29, 2012
I was stopped on the street by a tourist and asked where the waterfront was located. We were standing one block off the lake which was clearly visible to my left, his right. I pointed to the lake. Yes, he said, but how do I get there? You walk, I said. Yes, of course I walk, he said, but to where? To the water, I said warily. Yes, but where?! Where do I GO?! WHERE?! Dude, you kidding me? You walk one block to the water. The waterfront is at the front of the water, yes? YES, he screams, BUT WHERE IS IT?! At this point I wish I could say it was a language barrier that prevented us from understanding one another, but it wasn't, he just couldn't make himself any more clearer and neither could I.
September 30, 2012
We steal through yet another month. We're now 150 KeithSpeaks strong and still as wholesome, nutritious and good for you as any chocolate breakfast cereal out there. As well, we have continually lived up to our masthead and brought you Style. Substance. & Occasional disgrace. Yes? Ok then, on to October.
