*Preface - In yet another edition of, "you know you're old when..."

The music I grew up listening to, KC & Jojo's, "All My Life", is serving as a sample for some song on the radio.

Also.

Upon hearing Yung Joc's, "Coffeeshop" (peep the video below, be warned that it's just a barrel-full of nonsense), I ignore the drug dealing implications, and really just want some nicely brewed coffee (Starbucks is taking over the world).

Actually.

Does that last one make me young-enough-to-enjoy-the-music-at-face-value or been-around-too-long-that-I-don't-care-no-more?

Only cash! No credit, no cheques!

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As an addendum to the last post, the second creepiest thing in the last little while I've come across, and yes I realize this song is about 2 batrillion years old, whatever, is Fergie's hit single, "Glamorous".

Fast forward to about the 1:20 mark, where the lyrics read, "Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a Mustang".

Except that I always hear, "Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a MUSTACHE".

Go ahead, rewind it, and listen to it again without hearing "mustache". I dare you.

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What is the absolute creepiest thing you can conceivably imagine happening?

Because whatever it is, I'm pretty sure I have you beat.

"Giant webs draped him, spiders were all over him. They were coming out of his nose and his mouth."

I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight.

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Just returned from the local* collision reporting center. Don't worry, my mother's accident was minor, the car will need repairs, but physically speaking, my mother is doing just fine. Just a little mad at herself.

I have previously not set foot in a collision reporting center, due to my superior driving skills, instincts and anticipation. The RCMP Safety Bear** would be so proud of me.

But allow me to describe the police officers at work there.

Officer Sass
This particular officer was giving a guy a hard time, even threatening to send him back to take his driving tests again. I tuned into the semi-heated exchange a little late, but it had something to do with the guy reporting an accident a week late, and the officer insulting his intelligence. I figured the officer was manufacturing some drama into an otherwise dull work-life. Why do I say this? Because of...

Officer Word-Games-Are-Fun
This officer was sitting behind his big, empty, desk, front and center, doing the daily crossword puzzle. My kind of officer. I totally want to be him when I grow up. Except, better at crosswords. He looked hopelessly stuck.

Officer Wake-Me-Up-When-September-Ends
He was fast asleep, in the classic one-arm-propped-up sleeping-at-work posture, because the face-down-pose is too conspicuous.

And finally...

Officer Sass-ette
This female officer was responding to incoming calls to the reporting center. Here's how the exchange I caught went:

Excuse me sir, but I have plenty of other work to get to, so please just come in, and report the accident.

*slams phone down*

*walks over to Officer-Word-Games-Are-Fun, rolls her eyes, and proceeds to do absolutely nothing for the rest of my time spent at the center*

Fantastic. How much of my taxes goes to paying these guys again? And what kind of qualifications does one need to become of these tax-dollar-sucking-expenditures? Much like Joe, I wanna know.

*By local, I actually mean a good twenty minute drive away. But that was the one "in my area" according to a pamphlet an officer handed my mom at the scene of the accident.

**I think I was thinking about Smokey Bear at the time, forgetting Smokey Bear only cares about fire safety and would totally leave you be if your car accident didn't involve fire.

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*Preface - Day 1 of Operation-McOysty-Does-Not-Have-To-Go-To-Work-No-More. 12:42, 24 hour time. Progress? McOysty is bored. He'll probably be posting much more often than you're used to. You have been fatally warned.

Courtesy of the Miss Teen USA 2007 pageant, the contestant representing South Carolina answers a question. Is it a coincidence she has blond hair? You decide for yourself.

The transcript, just in case you were too busy laughing after a few words:

Recent polls have shown a fifth of Americans can't locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?

I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because some people out there in our nation don't have maps and I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and I believe that they should our education over here in the U.S., should help the U.S., should help South Africa it should help Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for our children.

Uhm. Roffle? The Iraq?

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Yup.

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You decide. Comment away!

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Finally.

Some scientists are actually benefiting society by attemption to create a time machine.

I desperately needed something like this yesterday.

Because.

If ever I was given the opportunity to choose between a Strawberry Cream Smoothie or a Passion Fruit Green Tea Smoothie at Second Cup, 20 times out of 10 I would opt for the Passion Fruit Green Tea Smoothie.

But not yesterday, the day before today, that is quickly becoming tomorrow's yesterday.

Which is why I need a do-over.

Or a refund.

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A final evaluation of my work term was conducted today, or should I say, handed to me on three pieces of paper.

One of the categories interns such as myself are rated on is "grooming", with the grade being "appropriate" or "inappropriate".

Two questions immediately popped into my head when reading this.

1. What does it take to score "inappropriate"? Because I've definitely walked into work with messy hair, and I probably do not take care of my facial hair as often as I should (my parents give me disapproving looks from time to time). I've gone to work in sandals, shorts, t-shirts and hats. And this one time, I even had the audacity to work a full day in sweat-pants, resembling someone who just rolled out of bed (because that's what really happened). And there have been quite a few days where I've forgotten to apply deodorant. These things not withstanding, I still scored "appropriate".

2. The fact that this is a criteria, grooming must have been an issue in the past, no? Somebody probably wandered into work smelling so rotten, and looking like they just walked out of a hurricane, that customers were offended, co-workers were driven to resignation, and security had to be utilized (security never, ever, does anything, at all, except conduct random desk checks to make sure things have been in order, and as I mentioned before, I've been screwed over twice by these supposed random checks).

It's fun to think about these things while being paid to work.

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What I'm about to say may offend some of you.

To others, the following statement may baffle you.

And still others won't even read through the statement because:

a) Admittedly, sometimes I type too much, rendering certain blog posts (this one included!) skim-worthy (I'm deeply offended by this)

and/or

b) Attention Deficit "Hey, look! It's a butterfly!" Disorder

Nevertheless, you may want to prepare yourself for this one. Grab a blanket if you think it'll shield you, take a deep breath and count to ten, and whatever you do...

...don't forget to tuck your children into bed.

Internet friends should be considered equal, if not better, than real-in-the-flesh-friends.

I'm going to allow you a minute to re-read the last sentence and let off some steam however you choose to do so, before you read any further.

*twiddles thumbs*

The statement is completely bogus and I won't even attempt a comedic justification, which would've included how Internet friends usually accept you as a person even before they meet you, and how it's easier to juggle the delicate balance of time allocation to different friends on the Internet (ten simultaneous MSN chat windows are easier to pay attention to than two simultaneous in-person conversations, thank you very much message history). And mixed up in all of this is how, in a weird, twisted, way, people are more authentic on the Internet than they are in person at times. Probably something to do with the relative anonymity. And then there are the ridiculous public declarations of friendships that are conveyed clearer through the Internet. A hug, present, or encouraging comment delivered in person is usually done with some amount of privacy. Post it on a "wall" or comment box of a blog (please comment folks, please), and it's out for all to see.

For example, please direct your attention to this touching birthday tribute I previously posted, or even this:

Don't worry. You won't get it. Not because the artistic rendition of a panda is sketchy at best, but because of all the inside jokes. I am represented by the brontosaurs if you were wondering.

Public declarations of friendships that last forever (once it's on the Internet, it's on the Internet for good). This potentially vaults Internet friendship over real-life friendship no?!

And plus, in this day and age, you aren't really somebody's friend unless you've added them, and they've added you, on some social networking site or blog roll, right?!

I debated all day with me, myself, and I, before deciding against any justification of the statement.

It would've just come out sounding insane.

*Post-face ... I forget the real word ... Epilogue! - With the uprising of smaller and more focused social networking sites (Facebook was one for Uni/College students back in the day, which was when I actually had an account instead of just using my friend's account now), I think someone should create a social networking site that caters specifically to the people with the common interest of "hating social networking sites". That sounded funnier in my head.

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I think I've reached the stage of life where I'm old enough that adults are giving me an ounce of respect, yet I'm still young enough to be "down" with kiddies (within 5 or so years).

Or I'm completely disillusioned and neither of the above are true.

And if that's the case, please don't tell me. My ignorance is blissfully aawesome.

(If only I had Facebook to show me the exact breakdown of my friends.)

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*Preface - Although, I probably couldn't get away with stuff that was released 5 years ago. Don't worry, you'll understand if you keep reading.

I am a music aficionado.

I'll wait as you attempt to use a dictionary.

*slow and steady toe tapping*

I enjoy music so much, that sometimes I'll buy an album just because a store has it in stock and on display. This explains why I have a Hilary Duff album.

*shocked faces*

I'm kidding.

*I'm not*

Album Review: Hilary Duff - Metamorphosis



Track One - So Yesterday
This track is like a much less annoying sounding version of Avril Lavigne's smash hit, "Complicated". And filled with sagely advice, examples including:

"Come tomorrow, it will seem so yesterday" - Clearly, Hilary has studied up on the theory of relativity, and how no matter what the actual date is, come tomorrow, today will always seem like yesterday. It's pretty deep. You might want to think about this for a bit.

*Light bulb flashes on*

"You can change your clothes, if you wanna" - Only if you wanna! If you happen to be in the immediate vicinity of my nose, please wanna. Please.

"You can change your life, if you wanna" - I'llllllllllllllllll tell you what I want, what I really really want.

Why is a Spice Girls song stuck in my head? I may need professional help.

Track Two - Come Clean
The purchase of this album could be completely justified by the strength of this track alone.

I only have a tiny issue with one line in this song, "trying to fit a square into a circle was my life". Now please consider three basic scenarios:

Only in scenario two is it actually hard to fit that square inside that circle. And even then, it only takes a little thinking-outside-the-box (hello, Photoshop!) to fit that square inside that circle.

If Hilary was trying to show that her life has been hard, she needed to pick a better analogy. And not be so filthy rich.

Track Three - Workin' It Out
As a rule, I try not to listen to songs that talk about things my body is so violently against. Working out, happens to make that short list. Sean Kingston contemplating suicide also makes that list. Milk is one of the few exceptions because they make hilarious commercials.

Track Four - Little Voice
Is she going to sing using a little voice? A chipmunk voice?

Nope. Too bad, it might have improved the track.

Instead she's talking about the little voice in her head. The voice in my head speaks a language I have not learned. It gets frustratingly confusing sometimes.

Track Five - Where Did I Go Right?
She puts a positive spin on the oft used saying, but manages to make the song very sad sounding. Contradictory messages, but still less confusing that the foreign little voice in my head.

Track Six - Anywhere But Here
Yet another misleading song title. Hilary would NOT want to be anywhere but here.

Oh, this track is amazing. Nonsensical lyrics about being so crazy in love notwithstanding.

Track Seven - The Math
"If you can't do the math
Then get out of the equation
I am calling you back
This is * 69"
Is it a minus or a plus
Does enough equal enough
If you can't do the math
Then nothing adds up
Tell me why I'm here"

G.E.N.I.U.S.

As an addendum, if you can't do the math, go directly back to first grade (do not even THINK about passing Go).

Track Eight - Love Just Is
This reminds me. Anybody that says, "it is what it is", should be immediately kicked in the shins. It's the polite way of saying "too bad, so sad, sucka".

"But the waiter spit in my soup!"
It is what it is.

"But my car was parked and HE backed into ME!"
It is what it is.

Track Nine - Sweet Sixteen
*This is a public service announcement to inform you that Buttug, err, Buttug McOysty is AFK, jumping up and down to this song*

Track Ten - Party Up
Getting back to the last track, it just makes me want to turn 16 all over again, every year. Absolutely my favorite song on this album.

I mean.

Absolutely my favorite song on this album...

...so far. (roffle waffles)

Track Eleven - Metamorphosis
Title track! Hilary documenting the transition between a larva and an adult. Fascinating.

Track Twelve - Inner Strength
As if one work out song wasn't enough. Now this is just personal. My chicken arms can only take so much verbal abuse.

Skip!

Track Thirteen - Why Not
Hilary waxes philosophical. And had she phrased it in the form of a question, I would've answered "because, not".

Probably not the best way to the end off the album. Making people think too hard. That's like assigning work to an employee on a Friday. It's against the non-written but well-understood boundary rules.

Wrap-Up
Best Hilary Duff album ever? Definitely.
Best album ever? ...

...Debatable.

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Thank you to everyone for your well wishes.

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Read this.

Let's sum it up quickly before I move onto the math.

A dentist inserted fangs into an employee's mouth while said employee, also a patient, was under general anesthesia. Pictures were taken of the practical joke, and then the fangs were removed. The rest of the procedure was carried out as normal.

The employee was given the pictures, freaked out, sued the dentist, and settled for $250,000.

The dentist, then turned around and sued his practice provider, who had refused to defend him in the original case, and won $1,000,000.

Net total = $1,000,000 - $250,000 = $750,000 + the memories of a hilarious and profitable practical joke.

Well played, Dr. Woo, well played.

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*Preface - It wasn't my birthday yesterday. My apologies if you felt tricked. It really wasn't my intention. . But thank you all very much for your well wishes!

Best. Commercial. Ever.

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In honor of someone's birthday, we held a family barbecue consisting of about 10 or so relatives from my mother's side of the family. It is a yearly tradition of good food and some polite conversation (I won't lie, it gets quiet at times).

My mother called me at work today and told me to pick up a cake of my choosing from the Maxim Bakery located close to home for the occasion. And so I grabbed a Mango Dream cake on the way home. It had a plump strawberry on top, and the outer edges were coated with coconut shavings. I also had them compose a message in frosty icing.

Did I mention it was my birthday we were celebrating?

So mom didn't have time to go pick out a cake for her own son, so instead, she calls up said son to pick up a cake for himself.

I first debated putting, "Happy Birthday ... Chris" (my brother's name), on the cake, and then faking an outrage when the cake was to be presented. I thought myself out of it, realizing most of my relatives probably would not appreciate my sense of humor.

I ended up just putting one of my own narcissistic catch phrases on top, and nobody questioned why 'awesome' was spelled with two a's.

I still appreciated my own inside joke.

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*Preface - Quick shots from a weekend away at McMaster University for the annual church summer get-away. Highly disjointed, but if you want to read an essay, may I suggest something from TIME magazine or perhaps, one of my previous posts.

- Once you've had a taste of suite-styled residences, you can never go back.

- Having a big, juicy, fly loose in the suite is annoying, but probably not as annoying as having loose snakes on a plane.

- Timbuktu is a real city, located in Mali (Africa). ColoUr me informed.

- Beautiful girls have me suicidal in denial?

- Dwiak!

- The kitchen people at McMaster inject cans of condensed air into their cafeteria food. It is the only explanation for all the gas that was passed this weekend.

- Ink does not seem to wash off my skin easily. People need to stop drawing on me. I need to stop letting people draw on me.

- Even though I am slightly cynical about the Chinese Christian cookie-cutter experience, I am only truly beginning to appreciate the different stories, personalities, and other randomnimities that any given individual can offer.

- Azure. Quo. Sway. My brother and I pwn scrabble. I don't need a red squiggly to tell me that randomnimities is not a word. And, TEMP is a real word. Learn things kids, learn things. Thank you.

- Speaking of my brother, he owes me five dollars. He bet on the wrong horse in a poker showdown. And he was the dealer. And he tried to fix the game. Not a good look.

- I hate Sean Kingston... 's musical offerings.

- The Nintendo DS is the best gaming system around today. And to truly appreciate the Nintendo DS, one must play 8 player networked Mario Kart. It inexplicably takes over your life. No meal was complete without a good round of trash talking, shell shocking, road rage racing action. It was loads of fun, even finishing 8 out of 8 every time to kids could not diminish the fact.

- Impromptu jamming (with optional joke telling) is a hobby I would like to pick up once again. And photography.

- My brother Nouhoum not only came and laid the Biblical smack-down on our congregation, he kept it real. And at times, real funny. I can only hope to live life as full as he has, and still is. Can I live? Jay-Z asked that question best.

- It doesn't matter what time of day it is. I ALWAYS quiero Taco Bell. And the Crunchwrap Supreme tastes like heaven. The fact that it is 7-layered, is no coincidence.

- People are naturally uninhibited by about 3am. There is no alcohol needed to loosen people up. Just keep them up to three. And watch sparks fly.

- Piw piw piw.

- Does anybody know where I can find more time!?

- Let go of my eggo.

- It's surprising how much of the French language I can pick up on. I miserably gave up after grade 11, but my retention rate is astounding. To me at least. I surprise myself routinely. Keeps me on my toes.

- If there's one thing you need in life, it's Jesus. If there's another, it's syrup.

- This entire weekend was the first weekend away from the city in a while. It showed me how badly I needed the escape. I rarely get sentimental here, but to everyone that was a part of my experience, however big or small, thanks.

*Hugs*

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I've been talking a lot about work here this week. But in the spirit of the long weekend, which for me starts now, I figured I'd switch it up. Not necessarily out of necessity, but more so out of intrigue.

Being mysterious is one of my finer qualities.

I'm going to take this time to address some searches people have been performing on Google that has resulted in them landing on my space.

*Sidenote* - Have you been using Blackle? I thought I told you that we won't stop to use Blackle. Get on with it. *End Sidenote*

Search Query One - "questions to ask to get to know somebody"

Look. It's not a secret that I'm socially awkward. If I knew how to carry on a conversation, or knew how to get to know somebody, I wouldn't have to come crawling back to the Internet to make friends.

Plus, I thought the emergence of services such as Facebook and Twitter, and before them, the ridiculous 100 things about yourself blog meme, stemmed from the fact that people no longer wanted to ask people things and have things asked of them. They would rather find out from some news feed or wall posting. And laugh through albums upon albums of incriminating pictures of other people. And accurately assess how many friends can be claimed based on friend requests.

Talk is cheap.

But personally, this doesn't change things. Let's just face facts. It makes no sense for a search for that particular phrase should land someone at my page. I'm going to be, hopelessly, socially awkward FOREVER.

Me and Common are Finding Forever. Together.

You should probably just hit play and let this run in the background for the rest of the post. I'm going to be discussing more music next week. Just try it. It's hip-hop, but I can almost guarantee you'll either enjoy it, or be indifferent about it. But you won't hate it.

Search Query Two - "why people got so angry when somebody has body odors"

Appalling. What does it say when someone can stumble across my site when searching with atrocious grammar? That my site is riddled with grammatical errors? At least I have spelling down.

Color. Colour. Color. Colour. Forget it.

Everybody has body odor. Don't deny it. It's how you choose to mask said odor that can either be unnoticed or frowned upon. It's another one of life's hygiene factors. Masked body odor is rarely mentioned, much less complimented, but once unmasked, or improperly masked, it is then that people become unruly.

And it's probably because the odor is invading their personal space. The odor permeates through the public air to stimulate smelling sensations, conjuring memories of other unfortunate incidents that involved bad aromas (that night of non-stop puking, or that skunk that was run over on the road). The air around any given person is rightfully that person's airspace. If airspaces are abided by, problems such as annoying smokers, gas-passers, and people that haven't been introduced to deodorant, would cease to be problems.

Personal space is a big issue. People believe they are entitled to a certain amount of personal space. Just go to your local grocery store, grab a stick of gum, and line up in a queue without making a motion for the bar that separates your stick of gum from the purchases of the person in front of you. Keep it at a relatively safe distance though, with plenty of open space in between the items, and stand beside your stick of gum. AND STILL watch the person in front get completely flustered as the reach for the separator bar for you.

Say no thank you when they do.

Search Query Three - "Kicked In The Nuts" - Google Images
This has got to be my all-time most-viewed post. Three years after the fact my boy (the one giving the peace sign did the sacking) got pwn'd, the picture is still in demand.

Guess I'm not the only one that finds non-serious injuries to the groinal area absolutely hilarious. I'm positive I was shaking from fits of laughter at the time of the picture.

Search Query Four - "who paid for shaq's big challenge"

Shaq.

Search Query Five - "analysis of the lyrics from r. kellys i believe i can fly mean"

Roffle. Somebody was looking for hidden connotations in his lyrics, especially since he's finally going to stand trial for being a pervert (that is me putting things lightly).

Or, somebody just really doesn't get the inspirational meaning of believing one can fly. Go back to school. Learn things.

Oh wait, I see the drug reference myself. I take it back.

Either way, I don't think I broke down this song like I did Fergie's, so I don't understand. Google, why are you directing unwarranted traffic my way? I think it's time to reevaluate this search algorithm of yours. It doesn't seem to be working.

Traffic doesn't do me any good. If you're going to direct anything unwarranted at me, it might as well be cash.

Or cookies.

Search Query Six - Why is this post so long!?

If you managed to figure out that wasn't something someone searched for, but rather a topic I needed to address anyways ... good. for. you.

Well, I think a sleek, new laptop may be arriving at my humble abode tomorrow, and me and new computers don't do so well together (think baking soda and vinegar), so if I manage to get her up and running, I'll throw something up here (obligatory photos of the packaging, and the product). But if it explodes in my face (inevitable), then I won't be back here for a while, so this extended post should more than make up for it.

Kiddies that don't have summer jobs and are reading this (I see you), ENTERTAIN ME tomorrow.

Goodnight. And good luck.

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*Preface - This exchange between my cubicle mate's friend, Kim, and I took place in my half of the cubicle.

Kim - So you like Nestea huh?

Me - No, I just like the packaging.

In the age where people invent crazy desktop countdown clocks for things as mundane as, say, a Harry Potter book, I'm using the empty Nestea bottles I have accumulated over the last few months to count down the days I have left at work. Everyday, I throw one out, until, theoretically, I have none left. I figure if I have no bottles left to reduce reuse recycle, then I'll have no reason to go back to work.

Genius.

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