monster sarcasm rally

Wake me up when September ends

If I had a few hours, I'd tell you about the Worst Holiday Ever. Maybe later in the week...

Your baby made me gross

Ever heard of impetigo? No? What about ecthyma?

If you have small children or work with small children, you've probably heard of them. Otherwise, maybe not so much... Until recently I'd never heard of either.

But now I have.

Apparently, they generally only infect babies. So the interweb tells me... Of course, should someone who is — let's say — prone to skin problems come in contact with a miniature infecting machine... Well, in such a case one might find oneself spending 3.5 hours in a hospital on a Saturday night trying to get treatment for such a condition.

The law of probability also dictates that the chances of this happening less than 48 hours before one leaves on holidays are approximately 42x10^∞:1. That's an infinity symbol in case you can't see it.

Ya.

The universe can bite me.

'Cept it might want to wait, 'cause I'm busy being gross right now. You know, grosser than usual.

Too bad there's no alternative

Dear Mr Harper,

Discrimination on the basis of family status is illegal in this country. You know that, right? Oops. I guess not.

For shame.

With cheese,
Sars

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There's another ad too, where 'real' Canadians talk about why they'll vote for him. One chick says she likes that he has small children. Either they're promoting illegal discrimination or that woman's a pedophile.

May the five forces be with you

A Wall Street Musical

You might be amused. But then, you might not. What the hell do I know?

Bah. That reminds me... Next weekend it's back to school for Sars. And this time I have to take a strategy course. Or marketing. Some crap like that. Ugh. Satellite campus = crap for courses to choose from.

Tales

For those of you who remember... There are more chapters up in the story.

Life with Sars: a photo essay

This was near my house. A few days after I snapped this shot, somebody came and painted over it. Too bad, I liked it.

I just noticed this... I think the girl in the painting is my neighbour.

My garden is full of blackberries. They weren't there last year. I didn't plant them.

Thank you, Miracle Poo®.

My garden is full of little tiny peppers. They weren't there last year. I didn't plant them.

Thank you, Miracle Poo®.

My garden is full of mint. Last year there was one little sprig in the corner. Now it's everywhere.That's okay. It helps to combat the smell of Miracle Poo®.

I just like this picture.

  Anne, these are your shoes. Do you want them back?

This is my kitchen. Mis-matched chairs. Table designed by moi (with a little help from Ikea by way of a local yard sale). Framed Sandman and Japanese graphic novel clips. Lisa's PhD thesis as art. Oh, and some Christmas lights that I forgot to take down for nine months.

How to eat a banana like a dog

If you ever want to know how to do anything, look it up on Instructables.

Tonight I wanted to know whether it was safe for dogs to eat banana peels (gee, I wonder why). Not only is it safe, it is also hilarious, as demonstrated in this set of instructions.