Williams Lake: Pre-Mature Injectulation

grammar, writing

I heard something interesting on tonight’s news. Something that was interesting only because of how out of left field and uninformed it was. Something that made me stop preparing dinner and walk into the living room. Something that made me sit down and giggle.

Williams Lake is a small town in British Columbia. It is just about six hours north of Vancouver. Apparently crime and crazy are running rampant in that town. So much so that the city council voted unanimously to “inject” high risk and prolific offenders with GPS technology. Something that doesn’t really exist except on the pages of sci-fi novels and probably in tin foil hat top secret government hoobajoobery labs. Not only that, passing such laws seem a bit out of the jurisdiction of municipal government.

City councilman Scott “His Hair Isn’t The Craziest Thing About Him” Nelson put the motion forward. He also mentioned something about watching these criminals 24/7 all year round. Of course, he wouldn’t be watching them. Unless is magic eight ball counts and only during commercial breaks of reruns of Conspiracy Theory with Jesse Ventura.

I am of course, putting words in Scott Nelson’s mouth. Which is probably better for him in the long run. At least he won’t sound as crazy. While I am helping him out, he also said “Why not graft rainbow colored angel wings and unicorn horns to the offenders as well. At least that way, people will see them coming!”

If I lived in Williams Lake, I think I would be furious that time and money were spent voting on such an insipid topic. What it really sounds like is that the powers that be have lost control and don’t have any idea what to do.


Once again, Happy Canada Day! It feels great to actually say that as a citizen of this great country. This will be my tenth Canada Day overall, but it feels like my first. I am about to burst with excitement at this momentous occasion.

Now if you’ll excuse me I am sure there some beers that need drankin’ and some veggie dogs that need to be grilled. Oh and of course there is Camp NaNoWriMo! Which is where I am off to today and for the rest of the month!

Have a great and happy Canada Day! May you quaff deeply from the chalice of good times and verily eat your preferred grilling substance and a bag of chips! Too bad I already ate all the potato salad I had intended for today.

Extra special Canada Day thanks and hugs n’ kisses to the lovely and beautiful Nicole Standard for the featured image. 

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.