Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Everyone's Favourite Time to Hate

I make Roll up the Rim jokes. We all do (still better than my baseball average, am I right? Right?!) But I've been coming across more and more people in recent years who are well and truly pissed about the fact that they haven't won a car or TV or RV or AWAC or whatever the hell they want. Could they be right? Is it a coffee conspiracy?

They've never hidden the odds of winning, and in fact, in previous years, Tim's has actually printed them right on the cups. I guess there's a grade-six math competence issue in Canada, that probability unit is tough. Still, I'd always suspected they were hiding something.

Roll up the Rim to Win is a promotion, and it works. I infrequently buy coffee, I prefer my home brews, but I'll spend a buck and change to roll the dice with my java a few times a year. It's obviously conducted at that time of year to combat Lent, but because most people have come around and thrown Catholicism out the window (this year, I'm giving up Jesus), it actually has the benefit of not just keeping would-be-abstainers coming back, but of pulling more customers than normal. We all know this. The cups go from brown to BRIGHT FUCKING RED, as if to say, "HEY! Come in here! Come now! This is an obvious and effective ploy for your attention!" Those sneaky devils.

Anyway, I bought a cup this morning while I was oot and aboot, and came up snake eyes again. I'd long suspected I would never actually get a car, and then, after I returned home with my disappointment and groceries in hand, I found this smoking gun evidence, pulled right from Toyota's website *play music from Zeitgeist*:

The bastards didn't even charge me for my Corolla.

Monday, 10 February 2014

The Story of J.A.R.V.I.S; or, How I Sleep Pt. 2

Baby alligators make cute pets, but they grow up, son.

Once upon a time, there was a little table hugger

who liked to eat Molly's soup bones
and ball up into ugly shapes on the couch.

Also known as Viserys III, the Beggar King, he grew very quickly,
and copied absolutely everything Molly did, desperate for approval.

Seriously, everything.

Being black, Jarface enjoyed bass guitar,
and being German, enoyed standing up straight for long periods of time.

The elusive South African Jarfish was very hard to spot. Blurry, out of focus shots led many to speculate on his very existence and what the hell his problem was.

Usually, Jarya Underfoot could be found underfoot, causing people to trip and drop knives and dinner ingredients and F-bombs, but occasionally he was caught while drowsing, much like a Snorlax.
And he didn't give a shit who or what he fell asleep on, much like a Snorlax.
And then I used to have a couch. 

Sunday, 9 February 2014

10 Reflections on the Sochi Games

  1. Homophobia is extremely alive in 2014. The comment threads on Sochi-related articles around the internet are bone-chilling.
  2. Ignorance is a vile fucking plague upon humanity. Anyone who chooses ignorance in the information age is an asshole.
  3. Homophobia, unlike most other phobias, has the unique characteristic of being superbly hateful and violent in nature.
  4. Google is suddenly the bravest company in the free world...???
  5. The Olympics are boring.
  6. The Olympics are pointless.
  7. Russians can be rednecks, too.
  8. Money, as always, comes before morale. 
  9. The World Cup has superior entertainment value, and I'm a hockey fan.
  10. Sochi itself looks like a beautiful city.

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Happy Choice Day!

      I often tune into WMUZ 103.5 FM (The Light), a prominent Christian radio station based in Detroit, because it's fun to watch people talk themselves into corners. The Bob Dutko show is especially inflammatory, ignorant, arrogant, and hypocritical.

      Today, the issue is abortion. Apparently, it's the 41st anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision, which I didn't know because I don't track the dates that people were legally given the basic autonomy each human ought to possess as a rule anyway.

      The station is spreading piles of hooey and fear-mongering about infant-murdering and baby-slaughter (their terms), and I don't have the time or the desire to dig too deeply into the issues right now. The point of this post is merely a rebranding. I don't refer to pro-lifers as "pro-lifers," because that's not their position, as I see it. If the pro-lifers want to give people names other than those they have chosen, we can as well. I've adopted a term I heard from Matt Dillahunty, proud Texan atheist, on The Atheist Experience, a favourite program of mine: anti-choice.

      I don't know why anti-choicers nurse their grievance at Roe v. Wade like Southerners do the Civil War, but if they want to bring it up and hammer down their points of view on the issue every year at this time, that's fine. We can rebrand that too. Instead of using the case name, which really does make it sound like the issue might still be up for debate, let's just celebrate human rights.

January 22 shall heretofore be known as...Choice Day! Spread the freethought!

Happy Choice Day everyone!

Monday, 26 August 2013

For Your Consideration: 3 Pictures

This image shows the roof of the store I work at. The building is not conducive to life. It has all metal siding, with gravel-on-tar roof; there's no good reason why anything should be growing here.
I think this little plant is the coolest thing in the world, and it always makes me smile when I look at it; it's a testament to the power of nature and the persistence of life in general. It reminds me of "The Rose that Grew From Concrete" by Tupac, an old favourite poem.

This is a church I walk by all the time. I forgot I had this picture, but it, too, makes me laugh every time I look at it. I walked right up to the people on the front lawn and told them "the Jews did it."

This is just a cute sleepy puppy sawing logs on my chest. That's all.