You might have seen this already, the way things like this fly around cyberspace. If not, join me in thanking my friend Cindy for passing it along.
One Star Hangover (*)
No pain. No real feeling of illness. You're able to function relatively
well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 cokes and still
feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak & fries.
Two Star Hangover (**)
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels...
Three Star Hangover (***)
Slight headache. Stomach feels
crappy. You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed watching Lucy reruns. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 iced teas and a diet Coke--yet you haven't peed once.
Four Star Hangover (****)
Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact
that you only shaved one side of your face. For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and even your hair hurts. Your ass is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who enters the bathroom.
Five Star Hangover (*****)
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually
annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Beer vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate spit so your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to take a dump results in a fire hose like discharge of alcohol-scented fluid with a rare "Floater" thrown in. The sole purpose of this "Floater" seems to be to splash the toilet water all over you. Death sounds pretty good about right now...
THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Indubitably; Innovative; Preliminary; Proliferation; Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Specificity; British Constitution; Passive-aggressive disorder;
Loquacious; Transubstantiate
THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
1.) Thanks, but I don't want to have sex. (haaaaa)
2.) Nope, no more booze for me.
3.) Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4.) Good evening officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight.
5.) Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.
6.) Sorry I'm being such a jackass.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Syracuse tournament: don't ask
Oh, alright: We won our first three games, then lost the next two, including the quarter-final game in triple-overtime -- a shootout, actually.
As for other matters, I have to respond to a couple other blogs here, because every time I try to post a comment, MSN crashes. Farg!
So here goes:
Nattypants: Happy birthday and happy new place.
Ma: Parties? Where? JB's new place? Am I invited? What should I wear? Can I bring anything? Are they BYOB?
In the next couple days, I'm going to spill about something I witnessed at the Syracuse tournament that really upset and disgusted me. It reminds me of the soccer debacle that I think Maria posted about on natlauzon.com in the days before everyone was blogged-up.
Later. Gotta run for now.
As for other matters, I have to respond to a couple other blogs here, because every time I try to post a comment, MSN crashes. Farg!
So here goes:
Nattypants: Happy birthday and happy new place.
Ma: Parties? Where? JB's new place? Am I invited? What should I wear? Can I bring anything? Are they BYOB?
In the next couple days, I'm going to spill about something I witnessed at the Syracuse tournament that really upset and disgusted me. It reminds me of the soccer debacle that I think Maria posted about on natlauzon.com in the days before everyone was blogged-up.
Later. Gotta run for now.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Life's dips and turns
So here I am, sitting at home, drinking coffee out of my "I (Heart) NY" mug (have I ever mentioned that I unofficially collect coffee mugs?) in honour of my weekend coming up in Syracuse, instead of being at work. It's the result of some minor unexpected developments in a weird day yesterday.
I was driving to the hockey game that wasn't (see previous post), when two cellphones starting yapping at me -- my personal phone, and my work phone. Work had a couple brainless questions, and my own cellphone featured a hockey player who was going to be late, because he had to pick up his jerseys where he had brought them to have his Canada flag crests sewn on.
Then work phone starts ringing again, asking me to work tonight, producing the 11pm news, instead of today, in my usual job of Assignment Editor. I protested a bit, because I was planning to head to Syracuse tonight, but relented without much of an argument. After all, until something else comes along, I need that place for up to two more months. Besides, Boss Hogg claims to be working on a plan to rescind my layoff.
So change in plans again: The trip to Syracuse is delayed until morning. I had to call the hotel and cancel the reservation for tonight, which had already been an on-again, off-again thing while we waited for the final game schedule.
Damned cellphones!
I was driving to the hockey game that wasn't (see previous post), when two cellphones starting yapping at me -- my personal phone, and my work phone. Work had a couple brainless questions, and my own cellphone featured a hockey player who was going to be late, because he had to pick up his jerseys where he had brought them to have his Canada flag crests sewn on.
Then work phone starts ringing again, asking me to work tonight, producing the 11pm news, instead of today, in my usual job of Assignment Editor. I protested a bit, because I was planning to head to Syracuse tonight, but relented without much of an argument. After all, until something else comes along, I need that place for up to two more months. Besides, Boss Hogg claims to be working on a plan to rescind my layoff.
So change in plans again: The trip to Syracuse is delayed until morning. I had to call the hotel and cancel the reservation for tonight, which had already been an on-again, off-again thing while we waited for the final game schedule.
Damned cellphones!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
The Hockey Game That Wasn't
So we drive all the way to freakin' Kanata in freakin' rush-hour traffic, and the boneheads forget to book referees for the game! What a p***off! We were gonna clobber them, and strengthen our hold on first place.
Oh well, that's the way the puck bounces sometimes.
Next stop: Syracuse this weekend!
Oh well, that's the way the puck bounces sometimes.
Next stop: Syracuse this weekend!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sunday night: Rangers 5, Seaway 1
First place beats last place. I wasn't at the game (see posts below), but Coach Trevor tells me that when Seaway scored its only goal to make the score 3-1 at that point, the kid who scored it celebrated as if he had just won the Stanley Cup.
My response: Are we starting to have that effect on the other teams?
Next stop: Kanata again, Wednesday night. A Rangers win will put a bit more distance between us and them, making our hold on top spot a bit less tenuous.
My response: Are we starting to have that effect on the other teams?
Next stop: Kanata again, Wednesday night. A Rangers win will put a bit more distance between us and them, making our hold on top spot a bit less tenuous.
Phew! It's over
And frankly, I rocked their world!
I was calm and cool and on top of my game. The entire exercise was done in front of six people, all representing the college. They were the "class" I had to teach, and they tried as hard as they could to act like obnoxious drunks with short attention spans (translation: typical college students). I also knew three of them previously, including the course co-ordinator, who was a classmate of mine at Canadore in the middle-1980s. I had to teach for 45 minutes, so was a tad nervous about whether I had enough material. Just as I got to the end of the material, I was given the time's up sign.
And get this: Canadore College is on the flight path from CFB North Bay. I was lecturing about recording audio, and (sorry, non-broadcast types, if you don't grasp this) the pitfalls of using AGC -- automatic gain control. For an example, I was using an airshow and a Snowbird jet flying overhead. Just as I mentioned it, a plane flew right over the college. One of my faux students exclaimed "Whoa! How'd he do that?" Karma, baby, Karma (not Ma's pooch, real Karma).
The class was followed by a series of eight oral questions that all candidates are asked. I took notes while the questions were being asked, to make sure I answered all parts. As confident as I felt with my answers, I still asked -- most of the time -- whether my answer was sufficient. I was also told going in that supplementary questions would be asked if they arose. None did, telling me that my initial answers were indeed complete.
Now, the waiting. They told me they would make a decision by late next week. I would cross my fingers, but then my typing would look like this: psalo;slkjsp;suifdol3.
I refuse to obsess about any of this. I know I did extremely well, and will have to let the chips fall where they may.
In the meantime, I have another interview scheduled for Friday, December 1, for a job in corporate communications at Ottawa City Hall.
I was calm and cool and on top of my game. The entire exercise was done in front of six people, all representing the college. They were the "class" I had to teach, and they tried as hard as they could to act like obnoxious drunks with short attention spans (translation: typical college students). I also knew three of them previously, including the course co-ordinator, who was a classmate of mine at Canadore in the middle-1980s. I had to teach for 45 minutes, so was a tad nervous about whether I had enough material. Just as I got to the end of the material, I was given the time's up sign.
And get this: Canadore College is on the flight path from CFB North Bay. I was lecturing about recording audio, and (sorry, non-broadcast types, if you don't grasp this) the pitfalls of using AGC -- automatic gain control. For an example, I was using an airshow and a Snowbird jet flying overhead. Just as I mentioned it, a plane flew right over the college. One of my faux students exclaimed "Whoa! How'd he do that?" Karma, baby, Karma (not Ma's pooch, real Karma).
The class was followed by a series of eight oral questions that all candidates are asked. I took notes while the questions were being asked, to make sure I answered all parts. As confident as I felt with my answers, I still asked -- most of the time -- whether my answer was sufficient. I was also told going in that supplementary questions would be asked if they arose. None did, telling me that my initial answers were indeed complete.
Now, the waiting. They told me they would make a decision by late next week. I would cross my fingers, but then my typing would look like this: psalo;slkjsp;suifdol3.
I refuse to obsess about any of this. I know I did extremely well, and will have to let the chips fall where they may.
In the meantime, I have another interview scheduled for Friday, December 1, for a job in corporate communications at Ottawa City Hall.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
I can't contain myself any longer
I've been keeping a tidbit from my fellow Bloglodytes for over a week now, trying not to jinx myself, but I think it's sharing time... after the break!
Alright, I'm neither Ryan Seacrest or Howie Mandel, so I won't pull that "after the break" crap. Besides, it doesn't work as well in print. So here goes: I have an interview on Monday for what is essentially my dream job. I've been trying to keep it low key so as not to jinx anything, as I mentioned above, and because at this point, it is ONLY a job interview.
The job: Professor of Broadcast Journalism at Canadore College. And coincidence of all coincidences: I'm listening to my Sirius satellite radio right now, and as I started this paragraph, Steve Anthony on Iceberg Radio (Channel 95) was talking about some list of best jobs. College or university professor is number 2.
Canadore College is my alma mater. I graduated top of the class of 1985 in Radio and Television Broadcasting. I "majored" in journalism, because the Broadcast Journalism program only started when I was in second year of the two-year RTV program, so you were allowed to concentrate on the news-type end of things, rather than on being a DJ or any of the dozens of other jobs in broadcasting.
Another coincidence that might not help me, but surely won't hurt: The woman who is now the course coordinator was one of my classmates.
So Monday at 1:00pm, I have an audition, actually teaching a 45-minute class on Broadcast Technology (technology and technical things are not necessarily my strong point, but I'm confident nonetheless), followed by a sit-down interview conducted by a panel.
Why "dream job"? I've often thought that I would like to teach budding broadcast journalists, which is something I do informally almost daily, being the old fart at A-Channel Ottawa who often coaches the youngsters, vets scripts and offers advice, even when it's not solicited. Plus, since I was a teenager, I have maintained that if I was ten years or so older, I would have been a teacher. At one time in Ontario, you could get into teacher's college right out of high school, get your certificate, and teach at the elementary level while working on a degree that would allow you to teach high school. I have an uncle who did exactly that, getting his first teaching job at the age of 19. He did get a bachelor's degree later, but ended up teaching elementary school for the next 34 years, retiring with a great pension at the age of 53.
This job at Canadore could be the answer to avoiding the layoff at A-Channel. As it stands now, my job and those of more than a dozen co-workers come to an end on January 19th. The position at Canadore begins January 2nd. I would love to be out of A-Channel before the 19th. The July day when the layoff was announced was a weird, black day. A few days since, when other people's layoffs have taken effect have also been drab. January 19th is just going to be brutally depressing.
I don't really want to leave Ottawa and the nice little life that I've fashioned for myself since moving here in March 2005, but I've always said that if I have to leave Ottawa, North Bay would be top of the list of places to go. I worked there for a couple years after college, and love that city. Plus, it's only four hours from Ottawa, four hours from my family in Iroquois Falls, and Little Brother Dan in Porcupine. The only reason that I left North Bay in 1987 was for a job in Timmins that was a move up. I was fifth man on the totem pole in a five-person radio newsroom in North Bay, behind a couple of long-term employees who had no intentions of leaving.
So on Monday afternoon, think of me, and send good, positive vibes towards North Bay. Naturally, I have no real idea how good my chances are, and no clue as to who else might be getting an interview, so all I can do is my best, and let the chips fall where they may.
Alright, I'm neither Ryan Seacrest or Howie Mandel, so I won't pull that "after the break" crap. Besides, it doesn't work as well in print. So here goes: I have an interview on Monday for what is essentially my dream job. I've been trying to keep it low key so as not to jinx anything, as I mentioned above, and because at this point, it is ONLY a job interview.
The job: Professor of Broadcast Journalism at Canadore College. And coincidence of all coincidences: I'm listening to my Sirius satellite radio right now, and as I started this paragraph, Steve Anthony on Iceberg Radio (Channel 95) was talking about some list of best jobs. College or university professor is number 2.
Canadore College is my alma mater. I graduated top of the class of 1985 in Radio and Television Broadcasting. I "majored" in journalism, because the Broadcast Journalism program only started when I was in second year of the two-year RTV program, so you were allowed to concentrate on the news-type end of things, rather than on being a DJ or any of the dozens of other jobs in broadcasting.
Another coincidence that might not help me, but surely won't hurt: The woman who is now the course coordinator was one of my classmates.
So Monday at 1:00pm, I have an audition, actually teaching a 45-minute class on Broadcast Technology (technology and technical things are not necessarily my strong point, but I'm confident nonetheless), followed by a sit-down interview conducted by a panel.
Why "dream job"? I've often thought that I would like to teach budding broadcast journalists, which is something I do informally almost daily, being the old fart at A-Channel Ottawa who often coaches the youngsters, vets scripts and offers advice, even when it's not solicited. Plus, since I was a teenager, I have maintained that if I was ten years or so older, I would have been a teacher. At one time in Ontario, you could get into teacher's college right out of high school, get your certificate, and teach at the elementary level while working on a degree that would allow you to teach high school. I have an uncle who did exactly that, getting his first teaching job at the age of 19. He did get a bachelor's degree later, but ended up teaching elementary school for the next 34 years, retiring with a great pension at the age of 53.
This job at Canadore could be the answer to avoiding the layoff at A-Channel. As it stands now, my job and those of more than a dozen co-workers come to an end on January 19th. The position at Canadore begins January 2nd. I would love to be out of A-Channel before the 19th. The July day when the layoff was announced was a weird, black day. A few days since, when other people's layoffs have taken effect have also been drab. January 19th is just going to be brutally depressing.
I don't really want to leave Ottawa and the nice little life that I've fashioned for myself since moving here in March 2005, but I've always said that if I have to leave Ottawa, North Bay would be top of the list of places to go. I worked there for a couple years after college, and love that city. Plus, it's only four hours from Ottawa, four hours from my family in Iroquois Falls, and Little Brother Dan in Porcupine. The only reason that I left North Bay in 1987 was for a job in Timmins that was a move up. I was fifth man on the totem pole in a five-person radio newsroom in North Bay, behind a couple of long-term employees who had no intentions of leaving.
So on Monday afternoon, think of me, and send good, positive vibes towards North Bay. Naturally, I have no real idea how good my chances are, and no clue as to who else might be getting an interview, so all I can do is my best, and let the chips fall where they may.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Rangers 4, Blazers 3 : Now THIS is Rangers Hockey!
Two big wins on back-to-back nights.
Tonight's victory over Kanata was hard-fought and well-deserved, to say the least. We were down 3-1 going into the third period. Maxwell Sunohara potted the tying goal, and Stephen Fullum got the winner. After letting in a stumper just a few seconds into the game, Goaltender Brett Foster turned his anger into focussed, positive energy, and came up with a great game.
We are now firmly in first place in the league. Every ounce of pride felt by team members tonight is absolutely justified.
Tonight's victory over Kanata was hard-fought and well-deserved, to say the least. We were down 3-1 going into the third period. Maxwell Sunohara potted the tying goal, and Stephen Fullum got the winner. After letting in a stumper just a few seconds into the game, Goaltender Brett Foster turned his anger into focussed, positive energy, and came up with a great game.
We are now firmly in first place in the league. Every ounce of pride felt by team members tonight is absolutely justified.
Rangers 6, Barons 3
...last night. Our team was back in full form, playing, as Coach John pointed out, "Rangers hockey." Goalie Chris played a great game, showing signs that his confidence is back.
The next big test is tonight, in Kanata against the Blazers.
The next big test is tonight, in Kanata against the Blazers.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Finally, the Halloween photo
...if I can get this dad-blamed thing to work. I'm concentrating so hard on getting it to work, that my tongue is sticking out the side of my mouth.
Here goes...
Whew! It worked!
Okay, so it's not the BEST Halloween costume ever, but where the heck were you when I was looking for help? Huh?
Arrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhh!
The voices in my head are singing "ABC" by the Jackson Five! Please, make them stop!
Hey, do you remember when Michael Jackson was a young... black... man!?
Hey, do you remember when Michael Jackson was a young... black... man!?
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Law & DIS-Order?
I heard what sounded like an urban myth this week, and being the grizzled, veteran reporter that I am, decided to investigate.
Someone told me that in the opening of Law & Order ("duh-duh-duh-DUH-DUM-DUM"), a certain male appendage shows up: a willy, Dewey the One-Eyed Worm, a phallus, a johnson, a wang, dick, or whatever one of the hundreds of other names for penis you think sounds most delicate and proper.
My attempt at finding information about it via Google was fruitless (nutless?). I record the show every Friday night, so just minutes ago, I went through the opening repeatedly, pausing on the pictures of the guys in handcuffs, which I was told is where the trouser snake supposedly appears.
Unless someone can prove me wrong, it is just as I suspected: an urban myth. No pecker shows up.
Now, the dog with the proportionately gigantic human-looking schlong in the IKEA catalogue is for real! It's as plain as the nose on your face, or (insert pee-pee reference here).
Any other urban myths we should try to debunk, you and I? Like, did Elvis really die on the toilet (the King dying on the throne: kind of poetic, ain't it?)? Or that entering your PIN backwards into an ATM will summon the police?
Bring 'em on!
Someone told me that in the opening of Law & Order ("duh-duh-duh-DUH-DUM-DUM"), a certain male appendage shows up: a willy, Dewey the One-Eyed Worm, a phallus, a johnson, a wang, dick, or whatever one of the hundreds of other names for penis you think sounds most delicate and proper.
My attempt at finding information about it via Google was fruitless (nutless?). I record the show every Friday night, so just minutes ago, I went through the opening repeatedly, pausing on the pictures of the guys in handcuffs, which I was told is where the trouser snake supposedly appears.
Unless someone can prove me wrong, it is just as I suspected: an urban myth. No pecker shows up.
Now, the dog with the proportionately gigantic human-looking schlong in the IKEA catalogue is for real! It's as plain as the nose on your face, or (insert pee-pee reference here).
Any other urban myths we should try to debunk, you and I? Like, did Elvis really die on the toilet (the King dying on the throne: kind of poetic, ain't it?)? Or that entering your PIN backwards into an ATM will summon the police?
Bring 'em on!
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Big Nickel Tournament news
The Rangers are just back from the Big Nickel Major AAA tournament in Sudbury. Our team won the first two games on Thursday, playing excellently. Yesterday: Not so well. We dropped both Friday games. We had to hang around Sudbury until about 12:30 this afternoon, to see how the wild card designations shook down.
Next tournament date: Syracuse, New York in three weeks.
Next tournament date: Syracuse, New York in three weeks.
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