No Secret Santa gift yet...

Honest, Secret Santa, despite my potty mouth and potty keyboard on this and other blogs, I really HAVE been a good boy all year.
But here I am, two days after Secret Santa Day, and what have I got? Big, fat ZILCH.
Maybe you went down the wrong email chimney. Mine is the one at mcintyre_bob@hotmail.com . So lay it on me, Big Guy!

Love and hugs,
Newsguy Bob

P.S. Please hug Mrs. Secret Santa and the Secret Reindeer for me, even that arrogant "My nose glows" Secret Rudolph and Secret Bruno, the brown-nosed Secret Reindeer (for anyone who doesn't know, Bruno is the one right behind Rudolph. He has a hard time stopping).

R.I.P. Holly

It has been a week or so of bad news from a lot of people who work in our building. One suffered a broken back and hip in a car wreck; another is dealing with her mother having broken her hip; and yet another with his mother and older brother being severely hurt by smoke inhalation during a fire in their townhouse.

The big shocker came this morning. One of our receptionists was driving in to work from her home in Brockville, when a five-ton truck hit her little car, killing Holly. She was a long-time security guard in our building, who just moved in to the receptionist job a few months ago.

A sobering occurrence this Christmas Eve.

Rest in peace, Holly. We already miss you.

To anyone reading this, give your loved ones an extra hug today.

My annual Christmas card letter this year

Hey guys and gals…



My thanks to all those who have sent me emails this past year........



I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat sh*t in the

glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every

envelope that needs sealing.



Also, I now have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same

reason.



I no longer have any savings because I gave them to a sick girl (Penny

Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.



I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive

the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for

participating in their special e-mail program .....



OR from the senior bank clerk in Nigeria who wants me to split $7

million with me for pretending to be a long lost relative of a customer

who died intestate.



I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking

out for me, and St.Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.



I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a

water buffalo on a hot day.



Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I

forward e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five

minutes.



Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can

remove toilet stains.



I no longer can buy gas without taking someone along to watch the car to

prevent a serial killer crawling into the back seat when I'm filling up.



I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a

perfume sample and rob me.



I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a

number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda,

Singapore and Uzbekistan.



Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown

African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when

it bites my bum.



And thanks to your great advice, I can't even pick up the $5.00 I found

dropped in the car park because it probably was placed there by a sex

molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.



Now, if you don't forward this to at least 144,000 people in the next 70

minutes, a large seagull with diarrhoea will land on your head at 5:00pm

this afternoon and the fleas from 12 mangy camels will infest your

backside, causing you to grow a hairy lump. I know this will occur,

because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbour's

ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.



By the way....a South American scientist, after a lengthy study, has

discovered, that people with high intellegence but low IQ who have

infrequent sexual activity, always read their e-mails with their hand on

the mouse. Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.



Have a great 2008 and keep emailing

Love and hugs as ever,
Bob

Anyone know of anyone driving from Ottawa to Iroquois Falls in the next four days?

So how dumb am I? Okay, a rhetorical question there, but bear with me.
First, I book the flight north for Boxing Day. Then I go out Christmas shopping, sucking up to Santa and Big Retail Business by going hog wild with big presents like housecoats, sweaters, goofy slippers (no moose or Homer Simpsons, but in that realm). How the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks do I pack all that crap?
So it looks like I'll find a box big enough, and put it on the bus. Thank Gawd the strike is over, and buses are running again north of North Bay.
Where's Scotty when you need him to beam something up for you?

Coffee the Scrabble-playing Cat

Okay, more Dubai photos

Welcome to my desert.
"He's got the Burj Al Arab in his hands..."

This one's for the guys. Notice how blue the water of the Arabian Gulf is?

Eating sushi at the Bamboo Lagoon in the Marriott Hotel. The first time I've ever been brave enough to eat sushi. Now I know what people mean when they say it's an acquired taste...
Have you had enough for now?

My eyeballs hurt

Oy! It's the morning after the CTVGlobemedia Christmas party. Why is my keyboard so damned loud?

I think I saw Mr. and Mrs. Milky at the party. I think he grabbed my ass -- not that I'm complaining.

On another topic: Coffee has been sneezing a lot the last couple of days. Should I be worried? I've only been a cat owner for six days. Am I becoming an obsessive dad?

Anybody seen Urban Pedestrian?

I haven't been able to get on to her blog the past couple days.

Where you at, Urb?

What's wrong with this picture?

Answer: It was taken in the desert. More accurately, it was taken at Arabian Ranches in Dubai.
Actually, there are a lot of Christmas decorations there, considering that the UAE is officially a Muslim country. The malls are all decked out -- and there are a lot of malls. Shopping is a national pastime in the UAE.
When I was shopping last Friday, I saw a Muslim guy dressed in a dishdash (the same thing I'm dressed in, in the Osama Bob Laden pic) buying an artificial Christmas tree and decorations to go with it. His very beautiful blonde significant other was also with him.

Camel Jockey Bob

This photo was obviously taken while I was on a desert safari in Dubai. It starts late in the afternoon with about an hour of dune bashing in Toyoto SUVs (I can't remember the name. It's not Range Rover, but something like that), ending up at a Bedouin type of camp set up in the desert, where you get to ride a camel for about 100 yards, then have a traditional dinner -- although one featured dish in the buffet was spaghetti bolognese.
I also got a henna tattoo of a scorpion, which the henna artist said is a good luck symbol for a man getting married. "With no tattoo, there is no marriage." She said the tattoo would last about a week, but after three days, it had faded away -- the same way my "Go Sens Go" henna tattoo did during the playoffs.

Osama Bob Laden

This is the first of my pics from Dubai. It was taken while I was on a desert safari last Wednesday night.

Scary, eh?

The debut of Coffee Cat

Isn't she beautiful? I adopted her today from the Ottawa Humane Society, she's 14 months old, and we've already bonded. When I'm at the computer, her favourite place is on top of my bed, which is right behind me, either just watching me or grabbing a catnap.

It's going to be nice to have some life around my apartment, other than me and my houseplants.

Wow! Talk about eventful times!

Okay, so I'm home safe and sound from Dubai, but my camera is being retarded, and I'm having a hell of a time downloading pictures.
I'm also suffering jetlag from the nine-hour time difference. I was exhausted last night, in bed by 10:15, and wide awake by 5:15. I know I will crash this evening, and hopefully, that will be the end of it.

Okay, eventful times since I got home, in reverse chronological order:

First, I am now the proud daddy of a 14-month-old female cat. I adopted her from the Ottawa Humane Society this afternoon. I'll post a pic when I can. She's all black, sleek body, with beautiful eyes. We have already bonded. Right now, she's still exploring her new home. GET THIS: Her name was and is COFFEE. I've already informed Ma Horton, and she seems pleased.

The big, momentous event: LITTLE BROTHER DAN GOT ENGAGED YESTERDAY!
He and Pretty Christine came to Ottawa for the weekend, to surprise his Mom on her birthday. Then yesterday, at Christine's folks' place in nearby Rockland, he proposed and gave her a ring. Thanks to today's snow storm, they're stranded here for a day, so we had lunch together, and Dan asked me to be his Best Man! No wedding plans are in place yet, but it will probably be somewhere in the Caribbean in the next year or so. As Dano told me last night, "Keep your sandals warmed up."

Proud of my Little Bro? Who? Me?

Hi from Dubai!

Sorry, no pics yet.
My arrival was delayed by 24 hours by a freakin' snowstorm on Thursday night, that made me miss my connection to Munich. So I had to stay overnight in Toronto (yuck!) at my own expense (Air Canada doesn't pay if the delay is weather-related). But I'm here safe and sound, chuckling at the irony of a snowstorm delaying my trip to a desert.
Yesterday, I took a double-decker bus tour of this fascinating city. Tomorrow, I'm going on a sunset desert safari, complete with camels and belly dancers, but not belly-dancing camels.
My hosts are the absolute best, setting up the ideal itinerary that isn't too ambitious, but hits the high points. After all, part of vay-kay is relaxation, too.
There's a swimming pool less than a five-minute walk from here. It's not used much this time of year, because the locals find the weather too cold, at 30C daytime, low 20s at night.

I'll check in again if and when I get a chance. Meanwhile, has anyone heard from Maria?

ow ow ow ow ow ow ow -- NOT!

So I'm back from the back-waxing and holy crap, I survived!
Nothin' to it. It really is just like getting a whole bunch of band-aids ripped off your skin. Of course, you feel it, but it's not that bad, and doesn't last long.

The benefit: My back is now as smooth as a baby's bum, just in time to wow the ladies on the beach in Dubai. And don't forget, there are more than just the head-to-toe-covered Muslim women. As my buddy Rick describes it, Dubai is a playground for the very rich British. It's their Florida.

Would I do the waxing thing again? Absolutely. What do I think of someone who wouldn't? Well, there's a five-letter word to describe them. It begins with a P and ends with an USSY.

I unintentionally made N@ pee her pants

First, for anyone who doesn't know: I cracked, and since sometime last week, I have been on facebook.
Next, I made the mistake of posting a goofy picture from high school on a facebook page about my high school. Already, my friend Doug and N@ have seen it and commented on it. They're both 15+ years younger than me, and neither of them went to Iroquois Falls Secondary School. So tighten your Depends, cuz here it is:

Doug said he would bet that the kid in the pic has a Dreamboat Annie T-shirt. I replied that I don't remember having the shirt, but I almost wore out the grooves on the Dreamboat Annie album, and now have it on CD, too.
N@ said "BWAAAAA----HAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEASE POST THIS ON YOUR BLOG! PLEASE PLEASE!!!! YOU MUST SHARE THE JOY!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
The T-shirt actually says "Bob McIntyre for Student Council". It was towards the end of Grade 10, it was my first campaign, and it worked. I spent the next three years on Student Council, including one as vice-president and one as president (Ontario had Grade 13 back then). I also had posters all over the school, and my buddies all wore homemade buttons that said "Vote Bob". Hey, it was 1974 -- there was no such thing as Powerpoint presentations or promotional videos. I hand-lettered the T-shirt, the posters and the badges.
Alright, let's see YOUR embarrassing high school pictures on YOUR blogs.

I work with the greatest people

As a TV news producer, I supervise whatever crew I happen to be working with at any given time. On weekends, we are a skeleton staff. The small number of people that we have to produce four 30-minute shows would shock a lot of people in television (although the last couple of years that I worked in Timmins, the late night crew consisted of the anchor and an all-in-one producer/director/switcher/audio person/tape operator).

I call them my Weekend Dream Team, and for good reason. We do a great job, and put a super product on the air every week. We also have a lot of fun. The talk in the newsroom gets very risqué, to the point that I often think I should put an end to it. But everyone participates, and no one has complained. So I remind myself that although it kicks the crap out of "the line", it hasn't crossed it. Besides, when I started my job as weekend producer last January, I decided that if we had to work weekends, we were going to have fun.

I often gush about my Weekend Dream Team and the great job we do together. That pisses some people off, but if you knew those people, you would get a chuckle out of anything that pisses them off.

As a token of appreciation and because many of us are on days off when any little celebrations are held in the newsroom, I organized a Weekend Dream Team pizza party a couple of months ago. The company paid the tab, I rounded up a few prizes -- including a pair of Senators tickets -- and everyone said how much they enjoyed it.

And then, last night, the entire team totally surprised me after our 6pm newscast with what they called "The Bob McIntyre Appreciation Dinner" -- something they wanted to do before I go to Dubai, and leave them in the hands of another producer for two weekends. They had pizza, pop, salad and other goodies.

I was humbled and honoured. Every one of my team members told me how much they appreciate working with me, how I surpass any other producer they've worked with in every way, and how they actually look forward to working weekends. I was almost speechless -- a rarity in itself.

So let me acknowledge each of these people to my blog friends. Regardless of their actual jobs, there is no snobbery. Each one realizes the contribution each makes to our work environment, and to the on-air product that we're so proud of. I have verbally thanked each and every one of them for the wonderful gesture last night. And even though none of them know of this blog, I proudly list their names: Doug, Chris (a.k.a Jonesy), Ron, Kate, Brent, Taz, Dash, Jason (a.k.a. J-Mac) and Jeni.

We all know that we won't be together as The Weekend Dream Team forever, but I do cherish every one of these fine people, and always will cherish having worked with them.

Who's in for $17,000,000 ?

Tomorrow's Super Seven.

Here are my numbers:

06 16 22 23 26 36 42
07 11 19 23 28 44 47
01 05 09 16 21 33 35
Encore 0079389

If you want to kick in your three bucks worth, post your numbers here by 9pm tomorrow. A suggestion: I have signed my ticket in the signature spot, and just below, wrote the word "blog" to distinguish it from the other tickets that I have.

Good luck to us. Maybe I'll bring a planeload of blog friends to Dubai with me next week...

Body waxing

Maybe this is a question I should ask over on Urban Pedestrian's blog, but what is body waxing like?

I'm quite a hairy guy, especially considering that I'm not of Mediterranean descent. I don't mind hair anywhere else on my body, but I'm kind of self-conscious about my back hair. I have more hair on my back than a lot of guys have on their chests. In fact, one time I had allergy tests, with pin pricks on my back onto which were dropped little doses of possible allergens. The test didn't work, because of my back hair, so I had to get them done again on my arms.

Anyway, with my trip to Dubai coming up in nine days, I have made an appointment to have my back waxed for the first time ever. Just the back, nothing else, no bikini or Brazilian for me, thank you.

The woman who's going to do it told me to take two extra-strength Tylenols before I go, because it hurts. She says she'll do a small patch first, then I can decide whether to proceed. She actually asked me if I've ever seen The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and said it really hurts that much, like a huge band-aid being pulled off.

I'm not really worried. I've survived kidney stones, which I understand is the most painful experience next to childbirth -- which, fortunately, I'll never have to go through.

So fill me in with horror stories and any wisdom you can impart about body waxing.

Why do I get the feeling I just opened the door to an avalanche of smart-assed comments?

I work in a cool place

I'm sitting at the Assignment Desk in the A-Channel Ottawa News Centre. I just stood beside my chair for two minutes, to mark the 11 o'clock hour, while watching our live coverage of the national Remembrance Day service. Remembrance Day certainly seems more poignant to this Baby Boomer, witnessing and reporting on young men (and one woman) coming home in coffins, from what is arguably someone else's war.

What is really cool, however, is that our building is just a couple hundred yards east of Parliament Hill. If the Chateau Laurier wasn't in the way, we could see the Parliament Buildings from here. From the right vantage point in our parking lot, you can see the Peace Tower clock peeking over top the Chateau. Anyway, when the Air Force flypast portion of the ceremony took place, it was like Surround Sound in here, as the jets flew over our building. Cool on one hand, and on the other hand, another poignant reminder of the significance of Remembrance Day.

When I was in elementary and high school, November 11 was a school holiday. A few years after I graduated from high school, the holiday was removed, and kids began going to school on November 11 (if it is a weekday, of course), although some classes would attend the local ceremony. As I recall, it was the Royal Canadian Legion who promoted the idea of it not being a school holiday, because Remembrance Day should be a day to remember the freedom and democracy that our forces fought for, so that kids could go to school.

Lest we forget.