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Brilliance in Advertising
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Other
- Hits: 2148
Brilliance in Advertising. No, really...
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The best thing I've seen since the Old Spice Commercials. I don't have a TV, but I hope this is on it...
Canada Post (6)
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Rants
- Hits: 2433
The last 2 parcels arrived today. October 7th. As an FYI, these were ordered on July 17th. This is a total of 82 days. Almost 3 months. Overall, 1 parcel out of 7 arrived on time, 1 2 weeks late, the rest in the order of months late. Seriously people, Given that it came from China, approximately 4,000 miles from here, you could have walked it quicker (50 miles a day and it woulda been here Monday). And there's been no response on my ticket...
Evaluate your own performance. If I sign a lease I'll consider ordering more stuff online...
Roomates (When I had them)
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2591
Returning from prospecting, invariably having spent every last nickel in the field on food and gas, my finances needing repair, time to find roomates...
Presumably this is better than being homeless, I never found it so, it was more grueling by a long shot, listening to the opinions of others and the gross conformity of imbeciles...
The one, an old alcoholic, brilliant, an engineer when sober, but something had went wrong with his life, he lost his wife and his kids, and I, not knowing, would offer him a drink and he'd go completely off the rails, find my bottle, finish it up, trying to wake us up at nine in the evening to tell us it was time to get up, I was already up, still up, hadn't yet gone to bed, the other roommate, Homunculus, he wasn't so impressed, he'd tolerate it to a point, he was just hoping to get his over-unity machine built.
Homunculus, regaling me with his endless plans to improve the world, he's got the alcoholic engineer working on his over-unity machine, I tell him it's a fraud, he disagrees "How do you know?" I ask, he explains "...because it's how the Americans are powering their anti-gravity machines...".
The engineer, he'd tell him the same as me when he's sober, "can't be done...", but he's giving up trying to reason with him, takes the money for the magnets and wires and uses it to get drunk. I understand.
Homunculus, he has everyone on his side, people learn just to play along, the owner of the local Chinese restaurant tells him long stories about how they never use MSG and how everything is free range and organic, that's enough to cure his imagined allergies. Complaining to me that the Prime Minister hasn't answered his latest letter requesting the resurrection of Jesus Christ, or to stop spraying contrails overhead, and I'll dryly reassure him that doubtless the Prime Minister has responded, only the reply was tied up with Canada Post. Checking his phone, he tracks the weather, lets me know the 'morrow's forecast, he won't leave the house, I've a 12, 18 hour day to look forward to working outdoors in a 40 below blizzard.., And if he was up when I got home he'd be watching William Shatner's "Weird World", which he took to be fact, concluding every episode with his own pet theory "It was probably Bigfoot...". And I could think of no better answer...
Little G & The Thrift Shop
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2623
I'm at a thrift shop, a windowless, drab affair, 2 story building crammed with rubbish in no particular order, a sort of sort-and-find your own treasure affair. It's expensive, as they go, but I've managed to find a few treasures, a few wooden jewelry boxes, another, checking the price, for a moment I misread $12.00 as $120 and put it back, I can't afford it, then I check it again and realize my mistake...it's filled with secret doors and old mismatched earrings, cufflinks, I pile them all in the box, I'll sort it out and explore it later when I get home...
And there's a puppet, lobster, folkways, companion to one I bought for a fingerless friend, a crab, I put my hand in, the long claws can be pulled back to fit over your fingers, check the price, $3.00, fine, but it's scratched out, a note on the tag says it's $5.00, too much, this thrift shop is expensive...
I'm unpacking my finds in the bedroom, time now to go through them, see what I've found, the $12.00 jewelry box is the treasure, when I hear someone enter the house and come upstairs, looking through the doorway it's A****, little G's son, he's pulling, carrying a 4 year old boy up the stairs (her other child (???)), putting it in his room, he sees me, but says nothing, and I realize that I shouldn't be here, this isn't my home, and I'm going to catch it when little G finds out in a big way...
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