Ten Years Later, The Queen, and There And Back Again One Thousand Times.

  Three days in a row, a trilogy! This past week has been filled with landmark life events. Well, as long as you are using the standard North American method of starting the week on Sunday and not Monday. If you are in Europe or a hipster, it was the last day of last week and the first two of this one. Doesn’t sound as awesome does it?

  As of Sunday,I have been living in Canada for ten years. Thinking back a decade ago, I can’t remember exactly what time I arrived. It was around midnight and I wonder had I been a minute or two in either direction would this only be two days and not a trilogy.

   On Monday, my wife and I woke up dark and early and went to my citizenship ceremony. I wore my red flannel shirt. I think I was smiling almost the entire time. You see, somewhere around second grade, I mean grade two, I became enamored with Canada and began to think that Canadians were bad ass. I don’t know what I read or saw. There was some character from Canada and they were awesome. No, it wasn’t Wolverine, it might have been a G.I. Joe. During the ceremony I would think back to that pudgy kid. Sure we didn’t set out to do this when we had moved here, but here we were becoming, at least, half bad asses. Then I remembered we lived in the biggest city in the warmest province. One-eigth bad asses it is.

  The judge entered the room and kept spoke briefly about the history of Canada and affirmed our responsibilities as Canadian. I swore allegiance to the Queen and sang the national anthem. Afterward, my wife bought me an apple fritter from Cartem’s Donutery and a fantastic local craft beer.  A friend at work bought a Nugent-Hopkins officially licensed street hockey stick and had the flag draped over my chair.

    Tuesday was the final landmark. With my morning run I completed one thousand kilometers. That is recorded kilometers. Not included are the kilometers where my phone died and I out ran from a pack of bear zombies. Grammar police please note that is bear, not bare. Which would have been equally terrifying.

Happy Mother Stuffin’ Valentine’s Day!

  What a great and glorious day the marketing necromancers at card, chocolate, and jewelry companies have invented for us. Conjured straight from thin air. No besmirching of pagan traditions. No solstice to expand on and contort into some holiday. Just an arbitrary date in the middle of February.

  Consumers are still in their post-christmas comas and the economy needs a jump start. Nothing can fix it except for a day based on diabetes and papercuts. Since Type 2 Laceration Day doesn’t sound good, they instead named it after a guy who was shot to death with arrows. Actually, it could have been two guys and maybe neither were shot with arrows. I simply can’t be bothered to research this any further.

  My wife and I don’t really buy into the whole thing. Why have only one day to love each other? Can’t I, a man, express my emotions to my wife all three hundred and sixty five days of the year? Do I need someone to tell me that this is the appointed day to buy her flowers? How could she possibly feel special when every other woman is also getting flowers? This is more of a day to keep up with the Jones’s. To hit the status quo. It isn’t about love, it is about proving that you are better than someone else’s partner, or at the very least, adequate.

  I know we aren’t the only people who don’t get caught up in it. Many people seem to have taken the red pill. They can see through the miasma. Maybe they have been in a relationship too long. Maybe they are just jaded assholes. Maybe they are simply intelligent and know it is bullshit.

  Valentine’s Day was invented to move product, make single people feel like shit, and make people in a relationship feel inadequate. The only people that are having a good time are those newly formed sex crazed couples. Although, it is equally stressful on them. All that chocolate fueled sex!

  Either way, Valentine’s Day is here. There is no where to run or hide. We are in the poo. Tell your partner you love them and go watch Fifty Shades of Grey! There is no better metaphor for Valentine’s Day than captive people getting screwed. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go buy flowers and put some cupid wings on my dog.

Live Short and Be Cheap: Ripped From The Canadian Headlines!

  The Supreme Court of Canada has made a historic decision this week. Overturning the ban on assisted suicide. At least for doctors and only for consenting people with certain yet-to-be clarified circumstances. I feel that it is a step in the right direction. A more humane direction. Congratulations humans, we have just gained the same rights that our pets have been exercising for years.

  Lifers, pro-lifers, or whatever they call themselves have come out of the woodwork spouting some weak statistics and facts. To sum it up, they say that Europe sucks and that innocent, non-consenting people are going to die. They also seem to think that giving up on life before it gets worse and leaving with a little bit of dignity are ungodly.

  I think their real issue is that none of them trust their children. They know full well that when they are old and decrepit, their kid is going to toss them in a care home and chuck a toaster in the walk-in tub.

  In other news, Target Canada is closing. That isn’t the news, we have known that for weeks. What we don’t know, apparently, is how liquidation sales work. On the first day of the sale, people lined up long before the stores were open. Mimicking scenes from Black Friday and Boxing Day sales. Primed and ready for some killer deals.

  Before lunch on Monday, the news had hit and has continued to hit for six days straight. Disappointment from coast to coast. One woman booed as she carried her bags out. Apparently not happy with the discounts, yet lacking the willpower to leave empty handed. I don’t know what she bought, but I can only hope it was a toaster and a walk-in tub.

  The sale started with deals of up to thirty percent off. No it isn’t a great deal, but it is what any intelligent person should expect. Stores don’t just give their stuff away right off the bat! Watch an episode of Pawn Stars! Go ahead and illegally download it, you cheap asses!

  Speaking of cheap asses, many people are glad to see Target go. Saying the prices were never as good as the U.S. stores. I don’t know how these surveyed geniuses expected that to work without Canada being annexed by the States, but apparently too many people thought the same way. Now we are losing a place to shop. Unfortunately, Target bought another chain so it could move here in the first place. Now we are down to Wal-Mart and Loblaw’s. Neither of which carry Cocoa Pebbles, however they both carry toasters.

I’m Sorry, I Can’t Be Your Friend Anymore.

  That is a heavy sentiment. Regardless if it is conveyed through words or actions. Someone has done something to emotionally distress someone else. The end of a relationship. For whatever reason, these people can no longer cohabitate or interact. Hopefully, they were diligent in getting their loaned out belongings back. This is a life altering event, that should not be taken lightly or done in haste. So, why the hell do people do it on social media so easily?

  Every now and then on facebook, you may see a post in your feed. Someone is cleaning house. Getting rid of noninteractive friends. They may keep you, if you reply to the post and let them know you still care. Perhaps they don’t even announce it, you don’t even get a chance, and at some indiscernible point in the future you discover that you have been dumped. Why? It takes effort to unfriend people. Furthermore, it can cause the dumped to feel rejected or feel that they have done something wrong.

  I believe the main reason is the perceived line that some draw between internet life and real life. I suppose these are the kind of people that still have active yahoo accounts and type in hotmail.com in order to be redirected to outlook.com. It is an outdated view that has been widely accepted throughout the last twenty years. It needs to stop.

  There is no line! There hasn’t been one for a long time. What is facebook, if not one of the best examples of this. This platform has augmented our daily interactions and communications. A majority of facebook friends are actually people we have met in real life. Sure, some are more acquaintances than friends and some haven’t been seen in person in over a decade, but does that matter? Facebook’s algorithms help tailor your feeds. Unless you are constantly interacting with someone’s profile by clicking it or corresponding, they will eventually go away. If they aren’t going away fast enough, you can manually tailor them.

  If someone shared a link on urban falconry, you can opt to see fewer posts on the subject. If someone constantly posts NSFW images that you definitely want to see later, you can hide these posts from your feed. If you just are completely tired of someone, just unfollow them, you can still be friends. So when the need arises, you can still easily get in touch with one another. Just because they are annoying on social media does not necessarily mean they are annoying in person. When you are with them in person, do you listen to everything they say? When they start talking about the impact that My Little Pony has had on Obama’s Foreign Policy, do you actually listen? You probably tune them out, not unfriend them.

  I somehow doubt that back in the, eighteen whatevers, when the phone was in it infancy, that there was such a perceived line, between real life and the new form of communication. I doubt that Orville Reginald Moorehead would request the operator connect him to Hoobajoob Joe Brown Johnson III and once connected say, “I am sorry good fellow, I can no longer be your phone friend as I have far too many. See you in real life at the pub!”

  There is no divide between internet life and real life. If you do weird stuff on the internet, you are doing weird stuff in real life, that goes through the internet and ends up in someone else’s real life. The sooner society accepts that, the better. Quit unfriending people, unless they have truly wronged you! You both have over four hundred friends. You do not interact with one another. You are not on each others radar. Although, someday you might be and how awkward will having to re-friend be?

People Who Have Kids, Ask Other People When They Are Going To Have Kids.

  My wife and I have been an item for nearly a decade. That includes dating and marriage. Anyway, we are of that age when many people that we know are either having children or have already had children. Which, according to all of them, is the bees knees. So much so, that sometimes it seems they can’t possibly contain their excitement or talk about anything else.

  “How’s the weather?”

  “Timmy loves it!”

  “How was your day?”

  “Took Timmy to Karate!”

  “Why are you bleeding?”

  “Timmy was just expressing himself. So creative! Please drive me to the hospital. Timmy doesn’t drive well when he is angry.”

  Let me get two things clear. First, my wife and I like kids and would someday love to have one of our own, when the time is right. Second, you can talk about your kids. But Christ, people! Asking other people if they are going to have kids is a really insensitive question. One that should not be thrown around as lightly as asking them if they watched Netflix on the weekend.

  First of all, it is a very intrusive question. One that can completely ruin someone’s day. What if people are trying to conceive, but are having issues? What if they just can’t? For instance, someone is just trying to get through the work day. Then they hear this. “Man, my kids are great! They did the cutest shit the other day. So how’s your barren uterus!” No, that isn’t what was actually said, but that is the interpreted meaning.

  Second, what is this porn? When people ask you, “Are you going to have children?” What they are really asking is. “So are you and your wife, uh, bangin’? You telling the checkout lady you don’t need a bag? Seriously though, between you and me, because we are on such a level,  are you coming in your wife?” That is my wife you are talking about man! I oughta pop you one! Right on the forehead! What! Are you going to use this information as inspiration for your secret erotic blog? You know the one with one follower! Who, unbeknownst to you, is your Mom!

  Speaking of which, you know how you should never joke about anyone’s mom until you know that she is alive and in great shape? Or how you should never ask a woman if that kid is her grandchild? Or ask if that younger looking woman with that older looking guy is his daughter? Same consideration applies here. Probably even more so. Maybe I am just being too pragmatic.