Interview With A Dumbass

Somebody interviewed me. NO seriously, somebody did. It’s for Salty Ham and it’s all about wrestling, and you can click here to check it out.

And before you ask, I have no idea why it looks like a continuous block of text with no paragraph or line breaks. It didn’t look that way when I sent it in, so I’m not the one you should be emailing about it.

Thanks, Pal!

Truth be told, this is Steve’s post to write. It happened to him, I was just watching. But, he’s too mad to write it, plus he’s making me lunch. So I figured the least I could do was scream on his behalf.

Everybody probably knows about PayPal, right? It’s this service where you punch in your credit card number, a bank account if ya want, and your address and stuff and then associate it with a login and from then on, you can buy stuff just by logging in, specifying how much money you want to send to another person with an account and hitting the pay button. People who use EBay love this thing, so much that EBay bought it. So what do you think PayPal’s main objectives are? From their cute little buttons that appear everywhere, they say it’s fast, free and secure. Well, I won’t question them on the secure part, that’s for sure. Here’s why.

As we’ve been saying a lot lately, well me anyway, we just moved. So, you know what happens when you move. You have to remember to tell every frickin body who sends you mail about your new address. So, among the other six zillion places we had to call and visit, we both happily went to PayPal and merrily changed our address. When we finished telling it all the new stuff, it said, “Thank you.” We assumed that meant everything went off without a hitch. Apparently, “Thank you” in PayPal speak means, “You bastards better check your account again because you’re about to get screwd.”

Skip ahead a month, to today. Steve went to buy a couple things. After he put the purchases through, he got a message that did not make him happy at all. It said, “Your sending limit is…” Actually, these few words made him practically jump through the roof. Having a sending limit meant, for some unknown reason, he had gone from being a verified user back to being an unverified user. This was especially angering since he’d had to essentially crawl through broken glass, adding a bank account he never wanted to add to his PayPal account to become a verified user just so they’d piss off about the sending limits. And now the limits were back? Why! Why! Why!

After picking apart an email, we found the problem. PayPal, in its infinite wisdom, had decided that since he had changed his address, they could not believe that this was his actual address until he confirmed it over the phone. In its even greater infinite wisdom, which is a trick, because how can you have greater infinite wisdom than infinite wisdom, but whatever, PayPal had decided to neglect to tell him this little nugget of fun info. Luckily, after we figured this out and satisfied PayPal by entering a happy fun code into their happy fun automated phone calling thing, the account was switched back to verified and all returned to being well.

Ok, I appreciate PayPal’s being super anal about security. This is money, and millions of people around the world are having their financial info and addresses kept in PayPal’s care just so they can buy stuff. For a long time, I resisted the urge to get a PayPal account just for this reason. I didn’t want some entity holding onto that sort of info. But I eventually gave in when everybody and their brother was using PayPal and there weren’t giant reports of PayPal’s members being victims of hacking and all manner of theft. What pisses me off, though, is that when he changed his address, nothing popped up or came in an email and said, “Hey! Asshole! You’re going to have to confirm this!” When a person is moving, they already have enough on their mind. You’d think the least PayPal could do is save them one frustration.

So, if you have a PayPal account that you just opened a couple of years ago, and you decide to move, remember to confirm your address. Otherwise, you’re in for a nasty surprise.

And People Wonder Why I’m Not So High On The Whole Career In Broadcasting Thing Anymore

If you haven’t heard by now,
Bell Globemedia is buying CHUM Ltd.
This news may not mean much to a lot of you, but if you in any way care about having options when it comes to what you watch on TV, what you listen to on the radio or what you read in the newspaper or online every day, it definitely should.

Read the story at the link above and think about how many things these 2 companies own, and then consider that when, not if, this deal is approved, 1 group of people will own every single bit of it. One voice will dominate all of those airwaves. The creative vision of a select few people will dictate the kind of shows you have to watch and the types of music that make it to air on mainstream radio. And most frightening to me, one editorial voice will have even more control than it does now over the already slanted news coverage we rely on to stay informed about what’s going on around us. If you don’t think that the news is slanted, first of all where have you been, and secondly, consider that in order to find out that more than 200 people would be losing their jobs as a direct result of this sale, I had to rely on the CBC. Funny how the CTV news didn’t mention that little chestnut when they covered it, I wonder how something like that happened.

On a personal note, I want to take a moment to address anybody who has ever asked me why I haven’t gone ahead and snagged that big time radio job I’ve always dreamed of. Does it make sense yet? It’s things just like this that have soured me on the whole idea. The job security just isn’t there anymore, and the pool of available *decent* jobs is getting smaller and smaller as technology takes over and as the number of companies offering the positions that remain gets lower and lower. Knowing that, I’d be an idiot to willingly get myself into such a situation for the sake of fulfilling a dream that in no way resembles the one I grew up with. Sure I might have a good voice for radio, but I know damn well that there are better uses out there for it than standing outside repeatedly yelling “will work for food.”

In closing, let me state the obvious. the only people that media consolidation benefits in any way are media executives. Everyone else, from the people who do all of the actual work for these companys right on down to the lowly consumer [that’s us by the way] just ends up getting the shaft. And you know what the really sad part is? We’re getting to the point where we can’t even choose who gives it to us anymore.

Calling All Eyes! Again!

This one’s got nothing to do with site tweakage, or breakage depending on your point of view. This has just got to do with this song and animation. I dare you. Let the song get into your head and slowly drive you mad, because it will! Watch and see. It will follow you everywhere, even when you’re off the net. When you are walking somewhere, it will fit the rhythm of your step. It will make you go back and record a five-minute loop of the song. What? It didn’t? Then I guess I’m just loopy. Ha, ha, ha! I kill me. But what in christ is on the screen? I would love to know.

Calling All Eyes!

Hey everybody. We’re experimenting with the ads again, cause we can’t seem to leave them alone. But doing this is kind of like painting your house blindfolded. So…does it look ugly? Did I just drip on the other nicely painted wall? Did I just mix the paint and it came out hot pink? Tell me if you can still see the links bar down there. Does the ad frame look too small? too big? Although if it’s too big..uh-oh, we’re screwed since I can’t find a smaller size. But tell me anyway. Would it fit better on another spot on the page? Are the colours ok? If you know better colours and you know those annoying bits of code to make them happen, could you let us know? And hey, if anyone out there is an ad sense guru and wouldn’t mind giving us a hand from time to time when it’s time to paint the house blindfolded again, feel free to shoot me an email. You know where the address is. Thanks everybody.

Matt, Want One of these?

I laugh every time I think about this. there’s a USB missile launcher! With this device, anyone can make their coworkers shake with fear, because with a few clicks of the mouse and a click of the red button, they have the power to unleash…foam rockets at them! If only this existed when a friend of Steve and I was working at Royal Bank. It would have beaten the hell out of the marshmallow fights we always heard about.

People seem to really be having fun with this, starting office wars with it. Oh procrastination has reached a whole new level.

Even though it’s too late to be fun for our one buddy, something tells me Matt would have a lot of fun with one of these. Just think of it. Next time someone’s standing over by the photocopier jabbering about holy paper and driving you nuts, you could click a few buttons and declare holy war with the thwack of foam rocket fire. Or, next time you’ve got that office-mate sitting next to you dropping large stink bombs, you could return fire of a different kind. Wouldn’t it be cool if they had no idea where it came from? But what I can’t figure out is how you hide one of these things. Maybe stealth attacks wouldn’t work so well.

Matt…. REVIEWS THINGS!

So I have just returned from lunch and on this particular occasion it was time for something new – and since it’s not just new for me but is actually new for the world – I thought I would review it for you here so that you may base your opinions moving forward solely on what I thought of this product. I’m still campagning that that be how the world works. Moving along we get to today’s subject.

BURGER KING’S NEW STACKER QUAD!

So we’ve all seen the commercials (unless you have a life and don’t watch as much tv as me) where Burger King advertises their new burgers – Stackers – which can come with 2, 3 or 4 patties. Good enough idea I guess.

So lately it’s been my goal to try and eat, at least a little bit, better than I have been and results have been good as I’ve lost a nice little chunk of weight in the last few months. Now that’s not to say I’ve cut out fast food altogether (I’m only human) and I had a weekend out of town where I ate a lot of crap this weekend so I really shouldn’t have been doing it again today – but I was talked in to Burger King – and then in to sampling the quad as I’m a fan of oversized food, as I know some of our readers are. (I’m looking at you Steve, Jon and Lu).

So despite not having had one since the mini-diet started my favourite burger is the Wendy’s Classic Triple – so I’ll pretty much stack (see what I did there, sith the Stacker) this one up against that. Since I have yet to see a burger with 5 patties on it (and I’d like to) I will use the not-yet-famous 5 patty grading system. 5 patties being good, 1 patty being for little girls.

We’ll start where we always should when talking about food. Taste. You can have a 37 pattied burger but if it tastes like Steve’s burnt pubic hair it’s really all for not.

We’re gonna give the Stacker Quad 4 patties out of 5. It was indeed quite tastey. But really no different at all than any of their other burgers. That’s not necessarily a bad thing since they make a good burger and this was no worse – but if you’re gonna throw that kind of advertising behind your new huge burger – you might want to add a little spice or something to it.

Presentation. No Patties out of 5. Ya this one will hurt you. I give it this rating because when I opened the wrapping, it appeared there really were no patties on this thing. Just 4 patties thick of CHEEEEEEEESE. Upon closer investigation I discovered that there were indeed patties there, just covered in so much cheese that the patties were hidden and I wondered if I’d ever crap again if I ate it. It just looked far too sloppy and messy whereas the Wendy’s Classic Triple has a nice clean appearance to it. (which I’ll admit starts to fade as you start to power through it.

Size: Despite what your girlfriend has told you, size matters. Especially when we’re talking about my burger. While there indeed were 4 patties on the burger, they were not Burger Kings Whopper patties. They were small standard fast food patties. When you order a Classic Triple from Wendy’s you get 3 square patties (because they don’t cut corners… get it?) and they are quite large. So, while Wendy’s has one less patty, I certainly felt like I get more food out of their burger without the shame of having to tell my friends “it takes 4 patties to satisfy my fat ass.” That’s a big plus in my book.

Finally, Bang for your Buck. 3 Patties out of 5. To get the Wendy’s Classic Triple combo with fries and a drink costs you $8.04. Sure that’s expensive for fast food but you get what you pay for. To get the Burger King Stacker Quad combo with fries and a drink (which I above deemed to be the smaller burger) costs you $8.49. So sure it’s only 45 cents more – but it’s still a valid point if you’re actually getting less meat.

So in closing – while I was not dissapointed with the burger in and of itself, when stacked up against the competition it was not enough to win me over as my new favourite artery busting burger.

Eat accordingly, friends.

So…

You know how I usually start these posts, when I have nothing to say, by saying that I’m just going to type and see what happens? Well today is a day, again, where I really have nothing to say. But this time I’m not going to type and hope something comes of it. So… ya…..

Carin and Steve, apartment building kiss of death.

What is with this? A few months before we left the last place where we lived together, there was a nice big apartment fire in the super’s apartment, and now, yesterday, after we move back in together, what’s that sound I hear? Ding ding ding di-i-i-i-i–i-i-ing! The fire alarm! Luckily this one was just a false alarm, but what’s up with that? Is our being together the indirect cause of apartment building destruction everywhere?

Well Damn Sam!

I don’t even know how to begin this post, so I guess I’ll just start writing. As some people probably know, last year, I went to guide dog school. I don’t know what it is about spending a few weeks with your classmates and it being a small class of 4, but you get pretty attached to them. In that class was a lady in her 70’s. She was hillarious! She seemed like your typical grandmother who would never swear, who was very meek and mild and quiet. Then she’d whip out gems to surprise you, like the day we were talking about a girl a couple of us happened to know who, well, got around and had a lot of babies, and the lady said, “She should learn to cross her legs!” I hadn’t laughed that hard in forever. She had the funniest expressions. Where some people might say “Holy crap!” or “Jesus Christ!” she’d say, “Jeepers twist!” If something went wrong, all she’d say was “Damn Sam!” She always wanted to visit, and always had time to sit and shoot the breeze. You could tell she loved her dog, and would do anything for her.

A few months ago, I found out that she had pancreatic cancer, and it was taking its toll on her. I would try and give her a call every few weeks to see how she was doing, but sometimes life got in the way. Ever since I heard the news, I was bracing myself for the worst, but you’re never prepared for it.

Yesterday, I thought I’d give her another call. I was a little worried when the answering machine just had her husband’s name on it. But I’d never gotten her answering machine before so I thought maybe that was just the way it was. When he returned my call, I got the news I never wanted to hear. It turns out that, not only did she lose her battle with cancer, but it happened in May! He had no way to get a hold of me, or any of the other classmates, to tell us what happened because she had all her friends’ numbers memorized.

I guess they were shooting her full of chemo and radiation, and it wasn’t doing a damn bit of good, only making her feel absolutely miserable. At her age, I wonder why they’d put her body through such an aggressive treatment. But maybe she decided to fight to the death. Then they put her on morphine and she had to go into the hospital, and I guess that was the end. Weirdly enough, her retired guide dog died six days before she did.

He said they had a nice service for her and there was a big turnout. If only I could have been there! But I’m glad lots of people could come. She was loved by a lot of people, and we’ll miss her. But at least she’s not suffering anymore. I remember, in one of the last conversations I had with her, she said, “Cancer’s a bitch!” At least now she can rest in peace.