28 October 2012
Of Moose, Mounties and Wile E. Coyote
28/10/12 05:23
This has been a week of heavy clouds, rain, and fog. Gloomy day and night. Truly we’re living up to our reputation as the Land of the Midnight Dark. It’s been rather quiet all in all. I should mention though that, as you likely have heard, we had an earthquake. Well, WE didn’t, it was centred just off Haida Gwaii, several hundred kilometres north of us. It was a 7.7 quake that was felt in the north of BC into Alberta, in Vancouver, everywhere, except for here. We felt nothing. Marsha had the World Series on and didn’t notice anything. Marsha had the World Series on so I of course slept right through it.
Speaking of Marsha, I’ve discovered something I consider interesting. It all started with a discussion we’ve had regarding one of my favourite shirts. Marsha got me this shirt several years ago and I like it so I wear it all the time. She said that I was wearing it out. I said that I wore it all the time because I really like the shirt. She said I should save such a nice shirt for a special occasion. I wondered why I would not wear such a nice shirt every chance I get. What I got from this exchange was this:
If men like a piece of clothing we wear it until it gets ratty and then we wear it some more.
If women like a piece of clothing they show how much they like it by NOT wearing it so it never gets worn out.
So guys, I guess that means that when you get your significant other something, the better it is, the less likely you are to see it ever again. Christmas is coming up and if you’re not sure what to get her, go into the very back of the closet. Dig around to find a box. You'll know it's the right one because it will be taped closed and stored under the suitcases. Inside this box, you’ll find a piece of clothing. No matter how hideous YOU might think it is, go out and get something as much like it as you can. Find her ANOTHER lime green poodle skirt. Get her ANOTHER pair of brown and blue paisley stretch pants. Scrounge around until you find her a second pink furry sweater with purple ruffles at the collar and sleeves. Better yet, get her the whole outfit and give it to her at once. After all if she hated these things, she’d wear them all the time. The fact that they were buried in the depths of the closet and she never ever wore them or even mentioned them means that she really really loves that frumpy avocado chenille dress and would be thrilled to get another one.
Trust me.
The big news in BC this week, before the earthquake that is, involved the Mountie and the Moose. You see this week a mountie in Prince George was sitting in his squad car filling out a report and looking for anything going on. Just after 1:00 in the morning he noticed a couple of moose crossing the highway and a car approaching. He decided he should try to make sure the moose were clear of the road or that the car stopped. Far better than having a moose and a car come to blows.
The Mountie started the cruiser and motored up to where the moose were on the road. Apparently the bull moose objected to this and it charged the cruiser, smacking into the front and breaking the grill. This made the moose really mad. It then climbed onto the hood kicked and broke the windshield, and proceeded on and danced a buck-and-wing on the roof of the squad. One of it’s hoofs even smashed the drivers window slightly injuring him. The moose then climbed off the back of the car and, as the Mountie said in his report “Both the culprit and accomplice departed the area on hoof.” In the press release the RCMP added that “This is not typical.” Love that dry Canadian humour.
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/story/2012/10/25/bc-police-car-moose.html
But when it comes to Canadian humour nothing comes close to my cousin Mike.
Last week we were all sitting around the table at Barbara’s and Mike told a story about something that happened when he was at college in the late 1970s. This is reaching back a few years, and understand that he’s told this story before but it’s still fresh each time. I decided to turn the rest of this week's column over to Mike. So without further ado
“So you see we were staying in this hotel in Manitoba. My buddy and me were hanging out in the room just chillin’ when another guy we knew burst in through the door. He’d obviously had been drinking but he started talking about how we had to go down to the lounge, how there were all these women down there, and on and on. My buddy and I weren’t that interested but he kept trying to convince us. While he was talking the guy picked up an exercise machine. Now this thing consisted of a big spring with bicycle handlebar grips on each end. You used it by grabbing the ends and bending it in half to work your arms and pecs. So while he’s talking he’s bending this thing over and over, of course the spring is pretty stiff so his arms get tired. A normal person would just stop after a while but not this guy. He just keeps talking and flexing. Flexing and talking. Finally he’s got it about half bent and his arms are shaking as he tries to get just one more rep.
Suddenly his wrists buckle and he lets go of both ends. The thing jumps out of his hand and the spring closes...on his nose. Now the thing is attached to the end of his nose and it hurts like hell. But that’s not the end of it. Boing, whappety-whappety-whappety, the handlebar grips beat him around the ears and sides of his head. It looked like something that would happen to Wile E. Coyote.
“Ah, Ow! Hefp me, Heefp me”. Remember his nose was being pinched closed by the spring. Between that and his being drunk it was hard to make out what he was saying. Not that we were much help. My buddy and I were on the floor laughing so hard we couldn’t move.
“Hefp me!”
Finally my buddy crawled over and pulled this thing off of the guys nose. He looked like a racoon with two black eyes, and the tip of his nose bruised black as well, and he had lumps on both sides of his head where he'd been beaten up by the hand grips. He looked like he’d gone three rounds with Ali in his prime. The best part though?
He still wanted to go down to the lounge to try to pick up women."
Happy Halloween!
Doug & Marsha (and Mike)
PIX: Pictures from this week would be 50 shades of grey, (this kind tumblr_m6pbw9Ykq01qg74ngo1_1280.jpg not the bad novel) so here are more pictures from the beach from a couple of weeks ago.
Speaking of Marsha, I’ve discovered something I consider interesting. It all started with a discussion we’ve had regarding one of my favourite shirts. Marsha got me this shirt several years ago and I like it so I wear it all the time. She said that I was wearing it out. I said that I wore it all the time because I really like the shirt. She said I should save such a nice shirt for a special occasion. I wondered why I would not wear such a nice shirt every chance I get. What I got from this exchange was this:
If men like a piece of clothing we wear it until it gets ratty and then we wear it some more.
If women like a piece of clothing they show how much they like it by NOT wearing it so it never gets worn out.
So guys, I guess that means that when you get your significant other something, the better it is, the less likely you are to see it ever again. Christmas is coming up and if you’re not sure what to get her, go into the very back of the closet. Dig around to find a box. You'll know it's the right one because it will be taped closed and stored under the suitcases. Inside this box, you’ll find a piece of clothing. No matter how hideous YOU might think it is, go out and get something as much like it as you can. Find her ANOTHER lime green poodle skirt. Get her ANOTHER pair of brown and blue paisley stretch pants. Scrounge around until you find her a second pink furry sweater with purple ruffles at the collar and sleeves. Better yet, get her the whole outfit and give it to her at once. After all if she hated these things, she’d wear them all the time. The fact that they were buried in the depths of the closet and she never ever wore them or even mentioned them means that she really really loves that frumpy avocado chenille dress and would be thrilled to get another one.
Trust me.
The big news in BC this week, before the earthquake that is, involved the Mountie and the Moose. You see this week a mountie in Prince George was sitting in his squad car filling out a report and looking for anything going on. Just after 1:00 in the morning he noticed a couple of moose crossing the highway and a car approaching. He decided he should try to make sure the moose were clear of the road or that the car stopped. Far better than having a moose and a car come to blows.
The Mountie started the cruiser and motored up to where the moose were on the road. Apparently the bull moose objected to this and it charged the cruiser, smacking into the front and breaking the grill. This made the moose really mad. It then climbed onto the hood kicked and broke the windshield, and proceeded on and danced a buck-and-wing on the roof of the squad. One of it’s hoofs even smashed the drivers window slightly injuring him. The moose then climbed off the back of the car and, as the Mountie said in his report “Both the culprit and accomplice departed the area on hoof.” In the press release the RCMP added that “This is not typical.” Love that dry Canadian humour.
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/story/2012/10/25/bc-police-car-moose.html
But when it comes to Canadian humour nothing comes close to my cousin Mike.
Last week we were all sitting around the table at Barbara’s and Mike told a story about something that happened when he was at college in the late 1970s. This is reaching back a few years, and understand that he’s told this story before but it’s still fresh each time. I decided to turn the rest of this week's column over to Mike. So without further ado
“So you see we were staying in this hotel in Manitoba. My buddy and me were hanging out in the room just chillin’ when another guy we knew burst in through the door. He’d obviously had been drinking but he started talking about how we had to go down to the lounge, how there were all these women down there, and on and on. My buddy and I weren’t that interested but he kept trying to convince us. While he was talking the guy picked up an exercise machine. Now this thing consisted of a big spring with bicycle handlebar grips on each end. You used it by grabbing the ends and bending it in half to work your arms and pecs. So while he’s talking he’s bending this thing over and over, of course the spring is pretty stiff so his arms get tired. A normal person would just stop after a while but not this guy. He just keeps talking and flexing. Flexing and talking. Finally he’s got it about half bent and his arms are shaking as he tries to get just one more rep.
Suddenly his wrists buckle and he lets go of both ends. The thing jumps out of his hand and the spring closes...on his nose. Now the thing is attached to the end of his nose and it hurts like hell. But that’s not the end of it. Boing, whappety-whappety-whappety, the handlebar grips beat him around the ears and sides of his head. It looked like something that would happen to Wile E. Coyote.
“Ah, Ow! Hefp me, Heefp me”. Remember his nose was being pinched closed by the spring. Between that and his being drunk it was hard to make out what he was saying. Not that we were much help. My buddy and I were on the floor laughing so hard we couldn’t move.
“Hefp me!”
Finally my buddy crawled over and pulled this thing off of the guys nose. He looked like a racoon with two black eyes, and the tip of his nose bruised black as well, and he had lumps on both sides of his head where he'd been beaten up by the hand grips. He looked like he’d gone three rounds with Ali in his prime. The best part though?
He still wanted to go down to the lounge to try to pick up women."
Happy Halloween!
Doug & Marsha (and Mike)
PIX: Pictures from this week would be 50 shades of grey, (this kind tumblr_m6pbw9Ykq01qg74ngo1_1280.jpg not the bad novel) so here are more pictures from the beach from a couple of weeks ago.
