Making a point

I somewhat recall waving a marshmallow skewer around that night, pointing the business end of it at TCHC, demanding him to make up his mind (about a girlfriend of mine) and to get his shit together about the other aspects of his life.

I was given more information than I had bargained for.  And an onion.  I was also given an onion. 

The origins of the onion

Our wedding day was filled with joyous tears.  A lot of them.  I think Malcolm started it.  And I love him all the more of it.  Anyway, to excuse the constant welling ups, Malcolm made the comment - multiple times - that someone in the building must have been cutting onions.

When it came time for our speech together to everyone, we were no exception to the tears.  Just as the tears started up, I was distracted by a body sneaking through the crowd towards us.  I realized it was TCHC just as he slunk up to the head table, but had no clue what he was up to.  Nearly sidelining me from what I had to say, his purpose came to light a moment later.

He wordlessly placed an onion - what turned out later to be THE onion - on the podium and slunk away again with just a quick nod at Malcolm.  Malcolm presented the onion to the audience.

"Here's the culprit!"

There was laughter and more love.  And more tears, even though that onion remained whole the rest of the night.

Wha'happened?

Between then and now, stuff happened.

I gave Jenny to my mom to use. I have since then acquired a temporary laptop to use until I get my act together and (get a job) and buy a new one. I have not yet decided to name this one.

Another of my friends got engaged.

The cat now refuses to drink out of his water dish. Instead, he prefers to drink dripping water out of the bathtub faucet. Whenever either of us goes to take a shower, he dashes in there to lap up the last drizzles after we turn the tap off. Because of this, sometimes we have to let the faucet drip for a bit when we get home so that he's not dehydrated. Stupid cat. I love him.

That Thundering Chicken friend of mine decided that he rather likes the CrazyBF and has since stayed over a few times this holiday to play video games with him until 7:30am. Watching them play, I have added the following words to my vocabulary if not to refer to Halo ODST, then just for my sheer amusement: Splooge gun, killtocity, and killionaire.

I am the proud owner of my very own Sackman (see Little Big Planet).

The Boos retired their 11-year old Christmas tree this year.

I bought winter tires for the first time in my driving career, and they have yet to be tested on any snow.

Another friend of mine bought a house.

I've realized that some people do grow up, some people never grow up, and some people stay the same. No matter what they do, some people you feel sorry for, some you start to like a little more, and some you love regardless.

www.cleverbot.com

I just had a conversation with an AI. It was a frustrating as talking to my Thunderous Chicken of a friend.
...
User: How's your day so far?

Cleverbot: Wonderful actually. How is yours?

User: Not bad, thanks.

Cleverbot: I'm ok, just tired.

User: Where are you?

Cleverbot: Where aren't I?

Cleverbot: Are you an alien?

User: No.

Cleverbot: Human?

User: Yes.

Cleverbot: No.

User: No?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: What do you mean?

Cleverbot: Nothing.

User: Yes.

Cleverbot: Who are you?

User: Who are you?

Cleverbot: If you are me then I guess that makes me you, correct?

User: I never iimplied that I was you, nor that you were me, you are making an incorrect assumption.

Cleverbot: Sure.

Yet another Heroic bed-time story

Despite the remaining warm weather, I chose to climb into a pair of flannels with which to crawl into bed tonight. Who am I trying to impress anyway?

I hope no one has gone on to believe that I've been suffering from a case of the lonelys this whole time that I've been away from writing. Stuff's been too crazy to tell you otherwise. I'd apologize, but I'm not trying to impress you, so too bad. :)

A little while ago, I was bursting with things to write about, but now, after 2 attempts, I still have yet to put anything publishable to the page. And so, I shall attempt to tell you later about my day today with Squiggly, my tourney trip to San Fran, and my family trip to Montreal. For now, I will stick to the ever reliable Thundering Chicken Hero Cookie story.

As you may or may not be familiar with, everytime my friend the Thundering Chicken Hero Cookie returns to town from London, England (how do you piss off the British? Ask where England is on a map), there is some sort of randomly memorable experience to be had. In the past, there was the alien bug, the biggest gamble ever, the chase-the-skunk night, and the asian fried chicken, to name a few.

However, the time before last, he managed to return without much ado. Sure it was his birthday weekend and there were some drunken festivities involved, but nothing really out of the ordinary. In fact, we'd made it to the last day of his trip home, and still nothing had happened. He, myself and Dimps had spent the evening down at the Taste of the Danforth, and were paused by the side of the crowded, people-filled road, waiting for Sherman to find us when we addressed this. Actually, it was TCHC himself that brought this up.

    "I can't believe that I've been home this whole time and nothing crazy has happened."
    "I know! You haven't had your usual dose of stupidness this trip; it's really throwing me off!"
    "Tell me about it. Maybe I've somehow cleansed my karma and am now free of all stupidness."
    "I can't imagine you getting off that easy. But you do leave tomorrow; I guess we'll have to put this trip down as the first one without you experiencing something retarded."
    "Maybe...weiiiiiird."

We fell silent for a moment as we searched the throngs of people for Sherman. Not even 4 seconds had passed since our stupidness-less exchange when a clearly intoxicated girl stumbled onto the scene with her posse of friends chasing after her, trying to keep her in check. The three of us smiled, faintly amused at the familiar sight, when she started to head our direction; with us having chosen our meeting spot for it being landmarked by the bank of porta-potties, her direction change towards us only seemed to make sense since she looked ready to keel over and worship the next porcelain god she could find.

TCHC, Dimps, and I watched her get closer and closer with her friends, until it suddenly dawned on the three of us too late that she was definitely headed straight for TCHC. Sure enough, before we could react, she had clapped a hand onto TCHC's shoulder and was close-talking her fateful message directly to his face.

    "Hey! Asian-cock!" and with her free hand, she totally, full-frontally, wanged him in the sweet-spot.

    "D'oh!" came TCHC's cry.
    "Oooooooooooooooh," came mine and Dimps's inward gasp.
    "Oh my god we're so sorry!" the posse of friends tried to apologize.
    "It's okay! It's just my asian brotha!" came the excuse from the intoxicated ball-smacker.

Needless to say, TCHC returned to England the next day, his stupid-streak still intact.

And for the record, while it wasn't on home turf, I have seen that Thundering Chicken Hero Cookie since, and let's just say that the streak is STILL going, this last time involving 20GBP, crab-legs, and "just this much" diaper rash cream. Good times always.

Beaten at my own game

A few posts back, I mentioned that "poo" was one of my favourite terms. Not only does it come up often in conversation, but it also serves as one of my favourite substitutes for curse words ("eff" being one of my other favourite substitute).

Irregardless, I was randomly challenged tonight, and I think I might have lost...

Hero Cookie - turd
me - poop
HC - doo doo
me - feces
HC - crapola
me - ka-ka
HC - FUDGE
me - steamer...cleveland steamer
HC - hershey squirt
HC - rocky road
HC - oh henry
HC - molson mud slide
me - skid mark
me - excrement
HC - buck shot
me - pellets
HC - What's happening?

Someone earned a pooey hero cookie tonight, and for once, I don't think it was me.
...

"Pain heals, chicks dig scars, glory last forever..."

Thanks for the chat.

Would you like a crumpet Hero Cookie with that?

meh. For no particular reason except for the fact that I'd been reading backwards (as predicted) and came across a few too many random Hero Cookie adventures (even some when he used to be known as the Thunder Chicken) and remembered that I was ORDERED to pay some homo-age homage to him on my blog.

Speaking of Thunder Chicken, how's THIS for homage?

So, many weekends ago, the Thundering Hero Chicken Cookie himself arrived home on a random visit and ORDERED me to find him an AFC restaurant to eat at. What's AFC, you ask? Asian Fried Chicken, and according to the link he sent me it was supposed to be damn good and available in Canada as opposed to his current London, England roaming grounds. So, as the dedicatedly loyal friend I am, I found him 2 restaurants that served the infamous poultry. On that weekend, we picked the one with the closer address and headed out.

Just to make sure the place actually existed and would be open for our late-night arrival, I called ahead.

Me - Hi, I was wondering what time you were open until?
Guy with HEAVY Korean accent - Hello!
Me - Hi, what time are you open until?
KG - Hah?
Me - What time are you open till?
KG - Oh...2 o'clock.
Me - You're open till 2 o'clock?
KG - Open 2 o'clock.
Me - Okay, thanks... *I take a moment to weigh how good the chances are that he actually understood me* Wait, what time do you CLOSE?
KG - Hah?
Me - CLOSE. What time?
KG - Oh...10 o'clock.
Me - Ah hah. Okay, thanks!

And so we drive out before 10 o'clock that night to the address I'd pulled off the internet. When we got to the plaza it was supposed to be a part of, we were baffled--we didn't see a Korean Chicken place anywhere. We circled a few times reading the different signs lit-up around the plaza and nearly gave up to leave when...

Me - There it is!

And there it was. We'd missed it on the first drive by because the sign wasn't lit. We'd missed it on the second drive by because the windows were dim...due to the grease build-up on them!

At the realization of the reason for the place being so dim, I shot the Thundering Hero Chicken Cookie a look that said: "What the HELL are we getting into?!"

The second look I shot at the THCC was one that said "This was YOUR idea, hence, this is YOUR fault." I gave him that look when we opened the door to the place only to find that the first and best seat available in the place was the middle bench seat out of a minivan!

Oh man.

We ended up ordering 2 orders of the stuff--one of each type; one fried plain, one fried with sauce. We accomplished this communication with the guy behind the counter by having me walk up to the sign up on the wall and POINTING at the pictures of the chicken!

Choosing to sit on two folding chairs rather than the cushy bench by the door, THCC and I waited for our food. Despite his constant whines for liquid, THCC somehow managed to refrain from ordering anything to drink there. This possibly having to do with the fact that half the drinks in the display refrigerator were either dented or already open. We spent our wait time exchanging various "looks" and head shakes. One particular moment was spent restraining our laughter as another customer miraculously appeared through the grime to place an order and then plop down on the best seat in the house to wait.

As soon as we got our food, we burst out of there into the cold February air, only to dissolve into retarded giggles and exclamations of whose fault it was that we were in that situation in the first place.

It was, and still is, THCC's fault. Period.

However, as most Hero Cookie stories turn out, our adventure only ended in good. The AFC not only turned out to be edible, it was actually pretty darned good! Figures Hero Cookie could only eat 3 pieces of the 20 we'd ordered before he called it quits...some lame excuse having to do with jetlag... ;)

And there you have your homage...homo. :D

An Atkiner's Haven

Holy meat. I cannot recall the last time I've eaten so much meat at one time. But it was quite an experience. Last night was a friend's birthday at the Red Violin Brazilian Steakhouse down on the Danforth. Ever been to a steakhouse that's a buffet?

First we started off with the appetizers which included a salad bar and a selection of other kinds of finger-ish foods. Hero Cookie told Sherman and I to go light on the carbs and on the appetizers in general as he'd been through this dining experience before. Had he not been there to say that, MAN would I have gone to TOWN on those apps. All I could eat smoked salmon and dolmades?! That's a gourmet meal for me in itself!

Then during the digesting time between appetizer and main course, they brought out these little side dishes to accompany our meat: sauteed mushrooms, fresh-cut fries, grilled baby carrots, some rice, and fried bananas. Needless to say, we needed to order more of those sides VERY soon after they arrived. But finally, the main course...

Meat, meat, and more MEAT.

Around come these servers wielding huge skewers of meat and machetes, no less. At the beginning of our meal we were given these cards: one side of the card was green and the other side was red, and as long as our card was showing green on the table in front of us, these guys kept coming and offering us fresh cuts of meat, right onto our plates. Machetes inches from our faces, theses guys would slice/slide a hunk of meat off their skewer and hoist the cut onto our dish, oozing with juices and flavour. To top it all off at the end of the night (two and a half hours later) they served us roasted pineapple, seasoned with cinnamon.

YUM.

Overall, Hero Cookie claimed that this place wasn't the best churrascaria he'd ever had, but for me it was the ONLY churrascaria and it suited me just fine. :)
...

Of course, any night with Hero Cookie just wouldn't be a night if I didn't have a HC story to tell, so here it is.

Later that night, after stopping by a Tim Horton's on the way out to the middle of nowhere, HC called me out of the car to "come see this." What I climbed out to see was this HUGE alien bug thing crawling around under my car.

Kind of a mix between a beetle, a cockroach, and a frog (alien, remember), this thing was around the size of my palm and it was loping along with something of a limp. Just imagine a car rolling along slowly with one rear wheel that's bigger and a different shape compared to all the others--like in the episode of The Simpsons when Homer goes ahead and drives the car with a parking boot attached to the front wheel--that's how it looked like this thing was walking.

Although he wouldn't touch it directly, HC followed that thing (à la the skunk of the other night) and tormented it the best he could; he kicked sand and other debris at it, he spat spit on it, he spat hot coffee on it...whatever it took to get a reaction out of the thing. The only thing was, it didn't react. Though from the looks of it, it could fly, it didn't even spread its wings once. It actually didn't even pause in its tracks. It just keep hobbling along as though we weren't there and as though there weren't drops of coffee over its shell/wings/exoskeleton. In the end, it crawled back under the darkness of my car after taking a brief stroll in the light of the street lights of the parking lot. When we drove away, we couldn't see it in the parking space anymore and since we knew it didn't walk very fast, we assumed it'd made its mysterious flight away.

That or I ran over it with one of my tires. You know, whatever.

The un-stinky annual NACIVT Tournament

I can't decide which name I like better: Hero Cookie, or Thunder Chicken. Decisions, decisions.

Last night there was a poker game going on in the ol' conference room. Hero Cookie/Thunder Chicken lost out early and so we went out to fetch some refreshments for the other players. As soon as we exited the building, HC/TC noticed a skunk meandering by the highway wall.

"Hey, there's a skunk! Let's go chase it!"

Of course my first reaction was to laugh and take his suggestion for a joke. But then to my surprise (or maybe NOT to my surprise) he was off after that thing. He chased it for a good 30 metres I'd say, keeping about 5 metres between himself and the skunk the whole time.

"You know if you get sprayed, I'm giving you $2.50 and you're taking the bus home tonight!"

I couldn't believe just how persistent he was--the poor animal was loping along and HC/TC was just stalking right along behind it. Finally, HC/TC decided to give a little burst of speed and close the distance between them as the skunk headed up a hill. As soon as he made his lunge at the skunk, the skunk's tail went springing upwards causing HC/TC to tear off in retreat. We both burst into laughter as the skunk finally disappeared over the hill.

"Man, I was so bold right until his tail went up!"

Luckily, there was no bus riding required at the end of the night.
...

This past weekend I was caught up in the 61st annual NACIVT tournament held right in Toronto this year, down at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. What a crazy weekend. Parts of me are still sore from all the playing. However, I think I'm more sore over the fact that my brother had taken the camera to Calgary that weekend and so I have a total of zero pictures of the event. BUT, I DO have some of Eng's pictures to share...

Competition was fierce as usual, though I can't complain about the way my team played this weekend. There was just such chemistry and trust between whichever 6 of us were on the court that our games were amazing. We ended losing out in the semi-finals to a team we really shouldn't have lost to (I mean, who loses to a team called "Spice"?) but again, I have no complaints about the way we played our game--I just wish we could've played more.

The NACIVT tournament marked the end of the Tigers' volleyball season, but starting tomorrow, the fall volleyball season begins for me. I'm entered in a tournament to play with HC/TC, Sherman, Mon, Lainey, and Pwong. We're just in for rec-division, but this should be good.

HC: "If you guys make me move at all tomorrow [at the tournament], I'm going to f--kin' hurt you."

I can't wait.

Quote of the Moment:

"Uh, sir? Sir, I farted. That smell is from the fart that I made."
    --Todd, Scrubs
...

I haven't written in a VERY long time. Not that there hasn't been anything to write about, but more so that there just hasn't been much time during which I could just sit in front of the computer and think. Admittedly, I've returned to writing in my journal during the last little while and it feels nice. Nothing can really beat pen on paper...though I'm sure some guys might argue for the allure of girl on girl.

Boobin has made the leap to the Big Apple. Having played a HUGE role in this by aiding and abetting his escape, I spend every day wondering where he is, what he's doing, and if he's alright. I hear from him about every other day, but that just isn't the same. I was going to go out and run some errands today, and I almost found myself dialing his number to see if he wanted to tag along. I miss him. Perhaps if we can steal a weekend away, Boo, Squiggly, and I (at least) are going to visit him once he's settled. I hope that weekend will be soon.

*Wishing you luck and all the good stuff from afar*

Went to a casino last night. We were there for hours upon hours--the guys gambled and we girls chatted on the sidelines. By the end of the night, ALL of the them were down. And by down, I mean down. So, on the way to cash out what chips they had left, they passed the Let it Ride tables. Hero Cookie decided that rather than cash out his last $75, he'd put one chip on each spot at the table and go in for one last hand. He was dealt something like pocket Queens and a 9. He tucked right away and just watched as the dealer turned over another Queen and another 9. Full house. He walked away with $900.

Only Hero Cookie.

Another thousand words

There's something about looking at pictures that makes you feel all warm and mushy inside. It brings back the memories of that good time gone by; I mean, because who takes pictures of sad events? It just shouldn't be allowed. That's not to say that we should completely forget and disregard the sad parts of our lives--they're a part of what makes us who we are afterall--but there's just a different way to remember those times outside of photography.

I was just flipping through Hero Cookie's pictures online and I was getting all fuzzy remembering the last summer we spent all together doing the goofy things we do best. Summer is the best time for making memories (personally) and looking back over last summer made me all excited for the few months ahead of summer, sun, and pictures.



Happy picture taking/memory making!

Yes, He Deserves A Hero Cookie

Venting about Shmelly being such a shmelly in my last post reminds me of an experience that I meant to post about oh so long ago and that Hero Cookie Man himself once requested of me...and so, here it is...

Once upon a time, not oh-so long ago (actually, while Hero Cookie Man came back from England to visit over the Christmas holidays), Shmelly and Hero Cookie decided to take a trip to the local casino of Port Perry before Hero Cookie had to head back to the other side of the world. I, of course, tagged along for the late night adventure out east and oh what an adventure it turned out to be.

The boys decided to head out fairly late that night after we'd sat around at my place, vegging in front of the boob-tube for a few hours. Whether it was the absense of traffic, the excited chatter in the car, the stars above, or the fact that we were cruisin' in Hero Cookie's mom's Beamer, the hour long drive passed by quickly and we were soon weaving the parking lot aisles, looking for a space. After parking, the three of us strode through the sliding door entrance and into the casino...almost.

With Hero Cookie and I looking deceivingly younger than our ages, the security guards consulted each other, and then stopped us at the door.

"IDs please."

No problem. HC and I enthusiastically reached for our wallets while Shmelly stood by and joked.

"I don't have any ID."

Haha. HC and I giggled and shook our heads at Shmelly's antics. But he persisted with his foolery.

"No, really, I don't have any ID."

Haha...HC and I giggled once more until we realized he was serious.

"You've got to be kidding..."
"You're serious?!"

Yes, he was serious and despite his earnest pleas, the security guards were not going to let him in, regardless of the fact that both HC and I were more than of legal age and Shmelly looked (and was) years older than us. Dejectedly, we dragged our feet--and Shmelly's ass--back out the way we came.

As we walked to the car, as we got into the car, and as we headed away from the casino, Shmelly tried to convince us that if we let him change his shirt and hat and let him walk back in by himself, the security guards would be none the wiser, see him for his true age, and let him walk right in with us to follow soon on his heels. Unfortunately, his scheme didn't quite gel with us and we didn't allow him the chance; for some reason, we gave the security guards a little more credit than that.

As sort of an immediate consolation for having ridden in the back of a beautiful Beamer for an hour for no apparent reason, I got to listen to Hero Cookie ream on Shmelly for the ride homeward. His amusingly frustrated rant included words such as "dumb-ass", "idiot", "retard", and "stupid", as well as the phrases "I can't believe you", "you're such as Shmelly", and of course "if you wanted a hero cookie, you could have just asked." The insults were incessant (Hero Cookie's good, what can I say?) until Shmelly finally struck on an even more ingenious scheme than the one before.

"I bet that if we drive to Rama right now, I could walk in there without needing an ID at all and we'll still get to spend the night at a casino."

Suddenly, after that suggestion, the insults ceased. HC considered it for a long time. It was so shmelly-stupid, it had to work; he had set out that night to gamble, afterall, and the drive to Rama (on an EMPTY gas tank, mind you) just to SEE if Shmelly could get in would be the ultimate gamble of the night. Our west-bound car was wrenched north-bound and away we went.

Yet another hour spent in the car again quickly passed by, this time speeded by the out-loud plotting of HC, thinking of the things by which he could get revenge on Shmelly for his stupidness that night. As sorry as I felt for Shmelly as he received HC's wrath, I have to admit he deserved...he knew it too. That and it was funny. Not too long after having sought out a gas-station in the nick of time, we arrived in the parking lot of Casino Rama.

This time, HC and I stayed in the car while Shmelly walked in through the sliding doors alone to see if his plan would indeed work. As much as I wanted him to get in without getting carded so that we could actually DO something that night, I also in part wanted him to be rejected once more...firstly, to teach him a lesson for leaving behind his ID when he knew we were heading to a place they LOVE to check ages for admittance, and secondly, because the beating from HC that he would get upon returning to the car would be priceless. A minute passed after he disappeared behind those darkened doors...then two... Amazingly, a moment later we actually got the cell-phone signal that he'd made it and that it was safe to park and follow him in.

"I can't believe that actually worked. I can't believe the bastard got in!"

And so HC turned off the car--he had refused to wait in the cold, especially if he was just going to have to start driving again after a rejection--and he and I joined the shmelly Shmelly in the casino, finally, for a night of fun and games.

The biggest gamble of the night turned out to be the biggest winner afterall. Not only did we make to Rama with the gas light on, but we actually got in to play, despite Shmelly not being able to prove that he was actually allowed to be in there. In conclusion, Shmelly can be such a shmelly and due to this fact, Hero Cookie is more than welcome to make fun of him for the rest of his life about our adventure that night... ;)