Where Are They Gonna Hide That?

Thieves steal rollercoaster

German police officers are asking for help in tracking down thieves who stole an entire rollercoaster.

The 20 ton big dipper, worth more than £13,000, was stolen from a truck that had stopped at a car park in Bischofsheim on its way to a nearby funfair.

First of all, for anyone who cares, £13,000 converts to exactly $27,251.68 Canadian as of right now.

But more importantly, can anybody tell me how it is that we keep hearing stories about people managing to steal stuff like this, but none of them ever involve anyone getting caught?

A Personal Challenge

Happy Hump Day,
So I’m back… again… after a… I dunno probably 3 month break since the last post. I’m back home for the summer and returning to somewhat of a farmiliar routine and am going to make it a personal challenge to myself to try and post on here regularly. Who knows whether it will work ornot. I hate challenges and ones given to you by yourself are the easiest ones to shed… so this may not work.

What to start with – well for any of you who were here when I used to post here regularly, if any of you are still even alive, you’ll know that the only thing I can even pretend to know a thing about is sports… so let’s start there.

The Jays look great this year. Especially if Burnett ever gets healthy. And he will. We’re hanging with the Sox and Yankess right now so if we can get him going and maybe get one more pitcher out of somewhere (since Josh Towers needs to be burned alive) we’ll be in good shape for at least a playoff race. Go see the team. They’re unbelievably entertaining. They have power and hitters throughout the line up which means they’re never out of a game. The numver of 5 run 8th innings and the like that this team has had makes every game a can’t miss. Me and a group of friends went to the Home Opener this year, complete with drunken brawl in the stands, and it was a blast. That’s a story for another post though that I will definately tell.

Anti-Flag has come out with another album a month or so ago called “For Blood & Empire” which is great. Not as heavy as some of their stuff but similar message and great tunes. Even if you won’t pick up the album, download the tune “One Trillion Dollars” and I guaruntee you’ll hum it for the rest of the day. Has happened to everyone who I’ve had listen to it.

That’s it for now I think. Also just wanted to say Great Job to Steve and Carin who have done a great job with this thing and have turned it in to something all their own with some great posts. Thumbs Up!

Back Soon…. hopefully

Happy Mother’s Day! Where’s dinner?

I love my dad a ton. He’s very good at building things, he’s resourceful, and he was the king of the red pen, probably the reason why I got better English marks in the grammar department than I deserved. But he can sometimes be a supreme dick. Here’s an example.

I phoned home on Mother’s day to say hi and all that. I then found out that, for Mother’s Day, mom ended up cooking for my grandma, but this is not my mom’s mom, this is my dad’s mom! On top of that, my dad’s sister thought she’d enjoy a nice mother’s day dinner…courtesy of my mom!

What really kills me about this is dad *can* cook. I can’t count the number of stir-fries, pastas, and other things dad made when we were kids and mom wasn’t home to cook, and they were good! Why couldn’t he get off his ass on mother’s day and cook this one?

After I recovered from that complete display of dad being an asshole, he got to amaze me one more time by saying to me on the phone, while mom was also on the phone, “She worked hard for her mother’s day!” He’s lucky he’s 300 miles away, otherwise he would at the very least see a very angry daughter. But then again, if he wasn’t 300 miles away, maybe mom would have at least let me help. I doubt it, but one can dream.

So, what’s my point? Here’s a note to other guys out there who seem to be drawn to doing selfish and dickish things. At least a couple days of the year, don’t be a dick!

This Guy Is Teaching Your Kids

When I read this story I can’t help but think that if it was a student that came up with this idea on his own, he’d be hustled into countless meetings and psychiatric assessments with no thought given to what kind of person he is, and there’s definitely no way he’d be able to avoid some sort of suspension.

Teacher Apologizes For Asking Students To Write About Who They Would Kill

ST. JOSEPH, Miss. (AP) – A high-school teacher has apologized for asking students to write about who they would kill and how they would do it, and officials said he will likely keep his job.

Michael Maxwell, who teaches industrial technology at Central High School, said his request that students in his beginning drafting class describe how they would carry out a murder was merely a writing prompt. It was not clear why he asked the drafting class to write fiction.

“I made a horrible mistake that I regret,” Maxwell said. “I want to apologize to my students, my colleagues and to the community.”

The April 21 writing request, which Maxwell said was not a formal assignment, came to the attention of administrators when a parent of one of the students filed a complaint with principal Barton Albright.

Albright expressed regret and apologized for Maxwell’s “lapse of judgment.”

“He’s an exemplary person … this is very out of character,” the principal said.

St. Joseph School District spokesman Steve Huff declined to discuss possible disciplinary measures because the matter is considered a personnel issue. But he said the incident probably isn’t serious enough to cost Maxwell his job.

About 25 to 30 students from ninth through 12th grades were in the class, Albright said.

This Guy Is Kidding, Right?

Perhaps I should have titled this “Why People Hate Lawyers: Part 17326”.

This is part of an article I just read about the sentencing of Min Chen, the man responsible for the killing of Cecilia Zhang.

Chen’s lawyer, prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen, said he was dismayed that [judge] Durno rejected his argument that his client deserved leniency because Zhang’s death was never supposed to happen.

“What I was disappointed with was that it was clearly a spontaneous act in the sense that it wasn’t planned, wasn’t considered, wasn’t foreseen,” Rosen said outside the courthouse.

“The judge rejected that submission, and I’m disappointed with that.”

Let that rattle around in your head for a minute.

Ok, you should probably be wanting to kick prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen square in the nutsack right about…now!

An accident? An oversight? A spontaneous act that requires leniency? Is this guy fucking serious? Min Chen kidnapped this family’s little girl in an attempt to extort money from them, and in the process, ended up killing her. And this, somehow, some way, in the world of John Rosen, qualifies as an unfortunate and unplanned circumstance that should cause a Superior Court Justice to view things with a “wow, that’s some shitty luck there my friend” attitude during sentencing? Give me a break! Maybe I’m wrong, but I was always under the impression that in order for something to be accidental, it had to be, oh I dunno, maybe an accident.

Let’s say that in the process of fighting off an attacker, you throw him to the ground in an attempt to subdue him, but he ends up hitting his head and eventually dying. That would be an accident. Breaking into somebody’s home with every intention of walking off with their child and then smuthering her to death when, wonder of wonders, she decides she’s not really down with that most certainly doesn’t qualify as making an oopsy, and I can’t come up with a single word strong enough to describe anyone who thinks it does.

If any lawyers happen to be reading this, I have just one thing to say to you. I know you’re not all bad. I understand that some of you do in fact have souls and consciences and that you absolutely do have people’s best interests at heart every time you walk into a courtroom. But if ever you find yourself wondering why your profession has the kind of reputation it does or why people make those nasty jokes about you, I hope you come back here and read this again, and see the words of one of your own. And when you see those words, I hope that 2 things go through your mind. Firstly that there is a big difference between providing good defence and spouting outright stupidity for the sake of making a buck. But even more than that, I hope that when you see those words, you can honestly say to yourself that while John Rosen may be one of your own by trade, he most definitely doesn’t speak for you, and if you can help it, anyone on whom you may ever have influence. That’s the only way that things are ever going to positively change for you and yours.

When it comes down to it, I think there’s a good lesson in this for all of us. None of us, no matter what it is we do to pay the bills, should ever forget that sometimes there are more important things in the world than money. All of the money in the universe can only get you so far. What truly matters is the kind of person you are, that’s what will ultimately end up paving your road in life more than cash ever will.

Carin and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Afternoon.

I hate afternoons like the one I had yesterday, the ones where all kinds of annoying little things happen that, on their own are pretty minor. But when you add them together and put a real doozer on the top, the masterpiece is not pleasant.

I wouldn’t have cared too much that I had to take a cab somewhere that was a bit expensive. It wouldn’t have been too bad that the cab was insanely late and on the wrong side of the street. It also wouldn’t have been horrible that the bus driver screwed up and didn’t let me off at the bus stop I asked for and I had to take a bus around. It was kind of annoying that I was going to spend the afternoon working with someone who makes me feel like six different kinds of crap. It was also a bitch that I almost lost my purse because the strap came undone. But there was one thing, one solitary thing, that was the kicker. The funny thing is it could have been a good thing. But oh no. It was all a trick.

As I was catching the bus that was going to screw up, a guy I knew came up to me and was talking to me and said he’d run and get me a brownie. I thought, “mmm. A brownie! Sounds good!” He gave me one, and just as I bit into it, I heard him say, “Yeah, a Vegan brownie!”

I cannot even begin to describe the unpleasantness that waits to greet anyone who tries a vegan brownie. On top of the fact that you have no earthly idea what you’re eating, I think the killer is it’s not uniform. I don’t know what it is about vegan goop, whatever goes in it, *gag*, but it doesn’t seem to mix well. One bite tastes like peanut buttery goodness. The next tastes like a wad of paper towel. What’s up with that? So every bite is a gamble. It doesn’t take long before I’m dreading the next bite. And I love, and can finish, most little dessert squares. But half of this went in the bus garbage can. I thought if I didn’t do that, more would be in there because I’d lose my lunch…and the rest of the brownie. Not a good scene at all.

So that was my afternoon. Probably people have had far worse than that. But as I said, there’s not much worse to eat than a vegan brownie.

Ya just never know.

It’s funny how things go. Remember back when I got tagged to do that list of 7’s? Remember how I mentioned wanting to meet the guy I tried to help come and study here? Well, today I didn’t exactly meet him, but I actually got to here his voice. I know that sounds weird, but I’ll try and explain. I did warn you back then, this is a long story.

Back in 2001, I had a weird thing happen. A guy who usually helped me out with stuff like dealing with difficult professors and all that wanted my help with an unusual project. He’d been contacted by a young man in Pakistan who wanted to come to Canada and study. The reason he was contacting this guy was he was blind and didn’t know if he would be accepted in Canada because of his disability. So for some odd reason, the person who helps me thoughtI would be able to help him.

I had no idea where to begin with this one, and couldn’t figure out what to do. I started phoning everywhere, trying to find some way for him to come over.

You see, if someone has any kind of disability, it’s hard as hell to come to Canada, or any country, I’d imagine, unless you have family there. On top of that, organizations like the CNIB or anything like that are dedicated to helping people who already live here, understandably. So they won’t help him.

The poor guy was so confused by me. He thought I was the admissions officer. It broke my heart to have to explain to him that I was just a student. I was happy his English was as good as it was.

So after about a year of chasing down leads, going through a rollercoaster of hopes and disappointments, I told him it looked like it was not possible. So he went to France. But he was on my MSN Messenger list still and I would write messages to him from time to time. I have to admit that the number of exchanges went way down because I found it hard to talk to him. I don’t know how to explain it. He saw me as being in a position of power to change quote the western world unquote because I live in it. I don’t blame him. If I were in his shoes, I would probably expect the same. But it made me feel helpless and wonder if I should find a way to use what little power I had. It was also hard to digest the sheer amount of despair he saw in Pakistan. I tried to listen, but I noticed that sometimes I would dread seeing him online. Isn’t that selfish?

Today, out of the blue, he asked for my phone number. Finally, I’ve heard his voice! It wasn’t a long call, but it was sure weird to actually hear the voice of someone you’ve only known in emails and messages for five years.

Silly Jabberings on an Awesome Day

I don’t know what it is about awesomely sunny days, but they make me want to gabble about random things that usually I wouldn’t think are worth being posted. But since it is so awesome out, here goes, off into the land of my silly mind.

I’m so glad to have that annoying census thing done. I went to do it this morning, and something really surprised me. This is the first year we’ve been able to do the census online, and already, they had a special help section on how to do it with screen-readers. That’s pretty damn cool. Usually, they produce something that’s completely blinky unfriendly, someone complains, actually several people complain, they do some research, and after several tries, they make something half decent. I’m not blaming or bitching, just saying that’s the way it usually goes. But they produced something that didn’t require an elaborate help file! I can’t say it works well, because the good folks at stats can are not happy with my browser and I don’t know why, I can’t even find the settings they speak of. But to make a long story short, I couldn’t fill it out online. But maybe it’s a good thing I couldn’t, because the help said with a screen-reader, it might take an hour, and I managed to do it with a helpful operator over the phone in five minutes! There’s some speed and efficiency right there.

Today I was walking down the street and got a good chuckle out of something. There was a guy standing at the corner of a street playing music. My first thought was, “Hmmm I wonder if I’ll step in his guitar case.” I’ve done it before. My second was, “Hmmm I wonder what he’ll do as I get closer.” They all do pretty entertaining things. One guy stopped playing just in time to keep me from stepping right in his guitar case. Another sang and did a jolly dodge the blink dance. This one stopped in the middle of his tune and yelled, “Go left!” I hope no one was engrossed in his song, cause they’d be wondering where go left fit in. Then he told me he was trying to guide me *with* the music. It was a good thought, but my first instinct whenI hear music is not to be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It’s to try to avoid his setup since I don’t really feel like joining him at centre stage. But at least he wasn’t too mad at me and nobody else seemed to be, so that was good.

I got even more amusement today on the bus. I was coming back from this thing the CNIB put on at this nursing home. So, while standing at the stop waiting for the bus, I was joined by this grunting man. I didn’t give it much thought, I thought maybe he had a stroke and lost the ability to speak. We got on the bus and he seemed to be able to see it coming and find a seat, so I thought, ok he must be cool to leave the nursing home. Then I started to question that assumption as we drove off. He would grunt louder and laugh. Sometimes he would copy noises around him. Once a baby screamed something like, “Dadadada!” The old man responded with a long, loud, “Daa-aa-aa-aa-aaa-aaa-aa!” Sometimes, he’d say, 10-4 along with the radio, or repeat other things. And sometimes when the baby would shriek, he’d say, “ooo! Screams!” It was really weird. Now I was really wondering if I should let the driver know where he came from. But he surprised me again when I got off the bus. He simply said to me, “Can you get down ok?” and sounded completely normal. So I really didn’t know what to think.

While we’re on the subject of getting a laugh out of things you wouldn’t expect to get a laugh out of, I never thought a radio that could pick up police frequencies would be so entertaining, more like captivating. Oh god I sound geeky. Brad got a crank-up radio for his birthday. On it, there was a setting to pick up weather stations, I guess if you lived in the states. But we found out that instead of boring old weather, we get exciting and weird police transmissions. That is the coolest when you’re in a small town where you might know the arrestee, and they’re less likely to use codes that you have to look up. Who’d think we’d turn off the TV and gather around the radio to see what we could hear? And then there’s the fun of saying to the other guy, “Do you recognize this name?” Scarily enough, we did recognize a few. Oh the silly little things that end up being fun.

And I think that’s about all the random things I had in my head. Maybe I’ll have more later. Get out in the sun, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow!

Apartment Hunting Sucks!

Steve and I are looking for a place together. Our little places can get a bit cramped when the two of us are in them, not to mention if we unloaded all of our stuff into one of them. That just wouldn’t happen. This has brought me to the conclusion that god I hate apartment hunting. On top of the strange deadlines, the applications you have to fill out and the frustration of finding out that some places just aren’t within where your vision of an area of town is, you meet some real dopes. Let’s begin.

Dope 1 thinks he can call an area not much bigger than your bachelor pad a two-bedroom apartment. Just because you have 2 closets in that small space doesn’t mean it’s a two bedroom!

Dope 2 doesn’t bother to let his current tenant know we’re coming. This is blatently obvious by the underwear she is folding when we go in. What does that forecast for us? Probably not good things. See ya later.

Dope 3 doesn’t seem too alarmed that her building has no laundry and there’s no laundry near by. Why? Because “She takes it home to her mommy.” Will mommy do ours?

Dope 4 refuses to even rent the space he has available to us because we can’t mow the lawn. seriously, would you really want two blinks trying to cut your grass? This position doesn’t change even when we tell him we’re willing to find and pay someone to do it out of our own pocket. Oh no, the guy on the main floor must do it. I will laugh and laugh and laugh if I read in the paper that his nice lawn-cutting tenants wreck his house and bounce rent. That actually happened to one guy in town, wanna go for 2?

Dope 5 works for an agency to help people find housing. Their specialty is supposed to be to match your requirements with places. Some of these requirements might be safety, affordability, location, you get the idea. This guy tried to recommend I go live at a place affectionately known around town as “the crack building.” When I said I wouldn’t feel safe there, do you want to know what his response was? It was, “Oh, you know about that.” Thanks, goodbye, and I’ll never recommend you to any of my friends, you slimy prick. Oo! That was a little unexpected venom.

Dopes 6 and 7 took the cake though. Where do I begin? Over the course of 3 visits, they helped talk us out of a place we weren’t really sure we wanted anyway by doing the following:

  • I asked dope 6 why the rent was so cheap. She said she honestly didn’t know, she just thought “the landlord was so nice!” so he was saving them on rent. When we arrived, it was made clear that maintenance wasn’t this guy’s priority and the building wasn’t “so nice! after all.” I mean, I wasn’t expecting a gorgeous place, but I was expecting more than this.

  • Dope 6 also didn’t even know where her phone jacks were or if they even had any. She said she couldn’t see them because all the furniture was in the way. Hello. You’ve lived here for a year, and the furniture didn’t arrange itself.

  • She also didn’t know who she was paying her hydro to because “my room-mate set that up and I just send her money.” After being very nice, I finally got mad and got the company name out of her by asking, “What are the words on the envelope that comes in the mail?” Even that took a couple of tries.

  • The room-mate, dope 7, because I’m so predictable, wasn’t much better. She also didn’t know where the phone jacks were, and didn’t understand the question “Do you lose heat in the winter time?” or “Does the place get cold.” I’ve never had someone pause so long and then say very slowly, “Um… … … I…don’t…knooooooooooooow!” Chief, It’s May! Winter wasn’t that long ago. Sure it was a mild one. But it still covered the ground with white garbage, that’s cold enough to make you, um … … … knooooooow! And, it was their first and only winter, so it’s not like she couldn’t remember which winter was the worst.

  • This was the best. After showing us around, Dope 6 looked at us, giggled and said, “Soon I’m going to go to New York City to meet this guy for the first time! I met him on the internet. He’s from Iowa, and he’s so nice!” Anybody remember what else was so nice that we just saw? I hope she makes it back alive and unscathed.

And so, the search continues. But I know, like the truth in the X files, an apartment…is out there.