Random thought:
I have magical powers that trick people into thinking that there really is a nice guy in there somewhere.
-
Yep. I am completely and thoroughly exhausted. It's 1:23 a.m. and I have to be up at the crack of dawn to open, and I just came back from Overtime (sports bar) after watching hockey night in Canada, but more specifically the Avalanche eliminate the Wild with some friends. I've been out most of today, and I didn't really put too much thought into what I was going to write about tonight, so it probably won't be all that structured, funny or interesting. I did want to take pictures of something outside yesterday for another entry, but I've lost motivation to leave the house again - as in the last 24 hours as in that time span we've probably gotten more snow than we had all winter.
:thumbs up for Canada:
Anyway, back to hockey!
Aside from Peter Forsberg;
Bearing an almost disturbing resemblance to our old pal Jesus:
And playing like some sort of appropriately mentioned demi-god tonight against the Wild, it was a very entertaining and fast paced game. Oh man, even that hurt my brain to write. Actually, I'm so tired right now I just wrote "write" up there "right", then starred at it blankly wondering why it felt as if something was grammatically wrong as I proof read it over for about 19 seconds.
For Canadians reading this: Colorado won 2-1 and eliminated the Wild! Now if Calgary loses tomorrow I'll be a very happy man.
For Americans/Anyone international: Hockey is a game played on ice where two opposing teams of consisting of centers, right/left wingers and defense -- using curved sticks, try to score using a "puck" (a hard black circular object made of vulcanized rubber) into the opponent's goal. The goals are protected each by two goalies. The games are split into three periods of twenty minutes each, and despite being rather entertaining like all commercial sports it's become quite, well, commercialized in the past two decades. A typical hockey game in this age would sort of look like:
[commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] :9 seconds of game time: [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial]
You think I'm lying, but I'm not.
I actually left to get ready to watch the game tonight at 9:09 a.m. this morning.
Seeing that picture of Jesus reminds me I have the exact same picture of him hanging in my room despite being perhaps the devil in flesh myself. My mom gave me the picture a long time ago despite her and I both knowing I abandoned organized religion about the same time Jesus himself was born. How are you even supposed to dispose of Jesus? I'd feel rather blasphemous throwing Jesus out and equally bad giving Jesus away. I think if I somehow managed to elude an eternal damnation for selling Jesus for profit on eBay it would most likely be the last straw that would ensure me a place in hell. Not to mention it has that automatic sentimental attachment latched onto it because one of my parents gave me it. Someone should really invent some type of memory revolver that once used on your forehead it would allow you to seamlessly toss out anything parents deliberately give you when you're an impressionable youth in an attempt to sabotage your personal beliefs, fully knowing one day you'll want to throw it away because they conflict with what you ended up believing in, but coincides with their thoughts and views. I hate that sentimentality. I have tons of crap I really should get rid of, but it's all boxed downstairs because my parents were the ones who gave it to me.
I have a whole stack of Berenstain bear books, at least 50 or 60 of them.
HOW ARE THESE EVER GOING TO COME IN HANDY AGAIN?!
I'm pretty sure by the time I have kids that are old enough to read to books, along with birds and the glaciers - they won't exist on our planet anymore. That or my wife will have murdered me. I'll actually bet on that pony here and now. $20 says by the time they're four I'll be dead.
Ah well, I'm about to pass out as Jesus plans to watch me sleep or plot some kind of revenge for writing I might sell him on eBay. I did find the title of this book a bit ironic however:
Thanks Mom!
When I purchase a house someday I'll have to purchase 48% of the surrounding neighborhood beside it to store all the weird stuff you've given me over the years.
And here's to hoping I don't accidentally fall asleep with the TV on again. Yesterday I woke up and some movie was on that warped my dream. I dreamed I was being chased by this sniper with a shotgun being chased by foot. He was running after me despite holding a shotgun (since, yeah, that's an effective and quiet sniper weapon) through all kinds of busy residential streets. He wore a mask for some reason and eventually he did corner me, but before he shot me I woke up and thought: "What the...?"
Sadly it's probably the most normal dream I've had so far in the last month.
Slightly off topic:
On CBC right now there's a movie on called "Dave". It's really good - and not just because it shares the same name as me.
It might be worth watching if you read this anytime soon.
/Bedtime.
I have magical powers that trick people into thinking that there really is a nice guy in there somewhere.
-
Yep. I am completely and thoroughly exhausted. It's 1:23 a.m. and I have to be up at the crack of dawn to open, and I just came back from Overtime (sports bar) after watching hockey night in Canada, but more specifically the Avalanche eliminate the Wild with some friends. I've been out most of today, and I didn't really put too much thought into what I was going to write about tonight, so it probably won't be all that structured, funny or interesting. I did want to take pictures of something outside yesterday for another entry, but I've lost motivation to leave the house again - as in the last 24 hours as in that time span we've probably gotten more snow than we had all winter.
:thumbs up for Canada:
Anyway, back to hockey!
Aside from Peter Forsberg;
Bearing an almost disturbing resemblance to our old pal Jesus:
And playing like some sort of appropriately mentioned demi-god tonight against the Wild, it was a very entertaining and fast paced game. Oh man, even that hurt my brain to write. Actually, I'm so tired right now I just wrote "write" up there "right", then starred at it blankly wondering why it felt as if something was grammatically wrong as I proof read it over for about 19 seconds.
For Canadians reading this: Colorado won 2-1 and eliminated the Wild! Now if Calgary loses tomorrow I'll be a very happy man.
For Americans/Anyone international: Hockey is a game played on ice where two opposing teams of consisting of centers, right/left wingers and defense -- using curved sticks, try to score using a "puck" (a hard black circular object made of vulcanized rubber) into the opponent's goal. The goals are protected each by two goalies. The games are split into three periods of twenty minutes each, and despite being rather entertaining like all commercial sports it's become quite, well, commercialized in the past two decades. A typical hockey game in this age would sort of look like:
[commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] :9 seconds of game time: [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial] [commercial]
You think I'm lying, but I'm not.
I actually left to get ready to watch the game tonight at 9:09 a.m. this morning.
Seeing that picture of Jesus reminds me I have the exact same picture of him hanging in my room despite being perhaps the devil in flesh myself. My mom gave me the picture a long time ago despite her and I both knowing I abandoned organized religion about the same time Jesus himself was born. How are you even supposed to dispose of Jesus? I'd feel rather blasphemous throwing Jesus out and equally bad giving Jesus away. I think if I somehow managed to elude an eternal damnation for selling Jesus for profit on eBay it would most likely be the last straw that would ensure me a place in hell. Not to mention it has that automatic sentimental attachment latched onto it because one of my parents gave me it. Someone should really invent some type of memory revolver that once used on your forehead it would allow you to seamlessly toss out anything parents deliberately give you when you're an impressionable youth in an attempt to sabotage your personal beliefs, fully knowing one day you'll want to throw it away because they conflict with what you ended up believing in, but coincides with their thoughts and views. I hate that sentimentality. I have tons of crap I really should get rid of, but it's all boxed downstairs because my parents were the ones who gave it to me.
I have a whole stack of Berenstain bear books, at least 50 or 60 of them.
HOW ARE THESE EVER GOING TO COME IN HANDY AGAIN?!
I'm pretty sure by the time I have kids that are old enough to read to books, along with birds and the glaciers - they won't exist on our planet anymore. That or my wife will have murdered me. I'll actually bet on that pony here and now. $20 says by the time they're four I'll be dead.
Ah well, I'm about to pass out as Jesus plans to watch me sleep or plot some kind of revenge for writing I might sell him on eBay. I did find the title of this book a bit ironic however:
Thanks Mom!
When I purchase a house someday I'll have to purchase 48% of the surrounding neighborhood beside it to store all the weird stuff you've given me over the years.
And here's to hoping I don't accidentally fall asleep with the TV on again. Yesterday I woke up and some movie was on that warped my dream. I dreamed I was being chased by this sniper with a shotgun being chased by foot. He was running after me despite holding a shotgun (since, yeah, that's an effective and quiet sniper weapon) through all kinds of busy residential streets. He wore a mask for some reason and eventually he did corner me, but before he shot me I woke up and thought: "What the...?"
Sadly it's probably the most normal dream I've had so far in the last month.
Slightly off topic:
On CBC right now there's a movie on called "Dave". It's really good - and not just because it shares the same name as me.
It might be worth watching if you read this anytime soon.
/Bedtime.
Comments