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My Milkshake Brings All The Boys To The Yard
I know, I'm late. I required a break. -.-
#1 Threat
SC: “I’m not sure who to call.”
Me: “What’s the problem?
SC: “There’s a bear.”
Well, good luck!
My list of emergency’s is pretty clear as to what is, and what isn’t an emergency. And I’m afraid “OH GOD BEAR HELP” isn’t listed. That aside….your first impulse upon sighting a bear was “I better call my landlord”? Were you planning on taking your landlord to task? Perhaps: “Your rental ad clearly stated this was a bear free establishment! This is totally unacceptable!”
You're totally going to lose your damage deposit.
Really? You Have Nothing Better To Do?
SC: “Yes, you have a flagger out at <road work site> flagging!”
Me: “Alright?”
SC: “And he’s wearing SHORTS!”
Me: “……….I’m sorry?”
SC: “He’s wearing shorts!”
Me: “……..alright?”
SC: “That’s against the dress code!”
…..wow, ok. Three things here, really.
Number One: I’d be wearing shorts too. He has to stand in the sun all damn day today. He has my sympathy. Its been so hot out lately that my dress code has been half naked in my underwear, with the barn door open and a fan aimed squarely at my velvet marble bag. Inside. Cut the poor guy some slack.
Number Two: You have way too much time on your hands and need to re-examine your priorities in life.
Number Three: You are, honestly, what most people define as a "miserable cunt". Whose sole function in life must be tasting the sorrow of other living things. You really drove by the poor guy and became so offended by his bare calves you had to call someone to try and report him? At 5am? Really?
Hell, tell me where he is. I want to run by with a cooler full of fine beverages for him and his compatriots. They’ll need something to press against their harpy scratches.
Milkshake
I feel I must address a fatal flaw without our transit system….a design oversight which haunts me weekly. I speak of course of the second generation of Skytrain cars. The white ones that have the look of the future but not yet the comfortable seats of the future like the black cars. These Skytrains possess a critical flaw: The seats face each other across the doors.
Surely, this can’t be that bad a problem you say. A little awkward to have the person across from you directly facing you, but no big deal. Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but you’ve never had a creepy old guy that looks like Bob Dole with Friar Tuck’s haircut stare at you from Metrotown to Stadium with a look on his face like he thinks you’re….delicious. His gaze would occasionally waver away when the train stopped and other….delicious specimens ( Of the young, nimble variety ) got on or got off of the train. But those lustful eyes would always return to me….as I had nowhere to run.
…I wonder what time I’d have to leave home in order to walk downtown and get here on time.
Drink It Up?
Me: “Alright, so it was John. J-O-H-N?”
SC: “Yes, ma’am”
Ah, forgive me. I see another halpless male has fallen for my siren call. I do try to remember to not use my deliciously silky chocolate voice in such a manner as to lavish your ear canals with temptations. But sometimes I forget I’m just one call away from an involuntary sex change and an attentive man harem. Normally, this might cause panic in the average heterosexual man. However, I see this as an opportunity to get some work done around the house. Without actually having to do this work myself.
When life gives you lemons, have them build a shed.
The Gift of Giving
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “Medium”
Me: “I’m afraid I only have it in small.”
SC: “I’ll take it.”
Sure, just a bit snug, that’s all.
Me: “Anything else?”
SC: “xxxx, medium”
Me: “Hmm, afraid I only have that in 2XL”
SC: “I’ll take it."
Sure, just a bit loose, that’s all.
Me: “Alright, that comes to $xx-“
SC: “Huh? Why it so much? It should be $xx”
Me: “Oh, are you looking in the clearance section of the website?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “I’m afraid clearance prices are web only. You’d have to place the order through the website to get them.”
SC: “Oh, well I was just doin’ some Christmas shopping. Getting it out of the way.”
Wait…..you’re bargain bin diving the clearance section of the website and ordering things that aren’t quite the right size…..in July……as Christmas Presents?! Really, dude? You bought a bunch of $5 t-shirts, in the wrong size, and went “Welp, that’s my shoppin’ done this year!”? I’m sure your family and friends will appreciate their 75% off, wrong sized t-shirts in whatever colour we had left.
But hey, why stop there! You know you don’t even have to go on the Internet for this. There’s this marvelous thing called yard sales specifically geared for people such as yourself. Picture if you will: An entire front yard full of things nobody wants ( not even the owners ) where at least half of it will be $2 or less! You could get all your Christmas shopping done for the next 5 years in one stop alone for $20. Who wouldn’t want an assorted shoe box full of bald Barbie dolls, VHS movies, a stack of strangely stained doily’s and two coverless Nancy Drew books that were printed when Roosevelt was still in office? Hell, that’s not even a Christmas present! That’s an anniversary gift!
Seriously though, your Christmas shipping just cost more then your Christmas shopping.
Regret
C: “Hi, <Officer> here, I have a warm dead male-”
….Why did you do that? Why did you provide a temperature? Are you attempting to imply freshness? I do not need nor want to know these things.
C: “He’s been in the apartment for about 6 days, so he is gone.”
That is the opposite of freshness. Though I see now why you’re mentioning warmth as a factor. 6 days in the apartment in this weather with the windows closed......you didn’t know the true meaning of regret till you reached for that door knob, did you?
Gee, I Wonder Why?
Me: “Alright, so you’re only being detained till they can send you back to the US?”
SC: “Yes.”
Me: “I’m afraid there’s not our lawyers can do for you if you’re just being deported and not charged with anything.”
SC: “Yeah, but why should I have to go to jail! I haven’t done anything! I’ll be among inmates! I shouldn’t be among people like that! It's not right!"
I would submit you have very little say in the matter at this point. I somehow have my doubts about this whole “Oh lawd they shipping me to prison!” story of yours. You are not being arrested, only being asked to leave and thus must be held in custody until they can put you on a plane and get you out of our country. This is not the sort of infraction that should cause them to lock you up in prison. You know, since you have supposedly done nothing and are merely an innocent victim of circumstance.
Me: “Hmm, alright, may I speak with the officer there?”
SC: “Yeah sure.”
It is time to get my clue on as it were, and discover the true nature of this simpering beast.
O: “Normally, we'd just keep him at the airport in a holding area till his return flight. But based on past criminal record airport security can decline to hold him if they want. In which case its off to jail.”
Ah, I see. There is the clue I seek. So what precisely did our totally innocent, delicate little snowflake do that would bar him from this dull beige holy land?
O: “Seeing as he has 6 previous convictions for assaults on police officers-“
Thus we have the answer to our riddle, children. If you do not want to be locked up in an actual prison, perhaps you shouldn’t, you know, attack police officers. They do not take kindly to that sort of thing.
Hot Tips
( Seriously, this guy has to have a blog somewhere. )
SC: “My name is Vick.”
Sigh, hello Vick. What is it now?
SC: “I just got into an argument with my sister.”
That’s nice. What the Hell, and I would like to re-emphasize the word “Hell” again, and perhaps prefix it with "Fucking", just to make sure you are accurately capturing my aggravation and disbelief, the Hell does that have to do with us?
SC: “You better ask her why her friends let Khalid Sheikh Mohammad and his nephew get out of Surrey.”
…you want me to ask your sister why she aided in the escape of Khalid Sheikh Mohammad, who I should point out is currently in Gitmo, escape from Surrey? So you think one of the terrorist masterminds behind 9/11 was in Surrey this evening ( I guess Gitmo issues day passes )….and the only way he eluded capture at your capable hands was because of your sister.
What are you smoking and have you considered trying to market it?
SC: “I had them dead to rights! I knocked his teeth out with the butt end of my rifle!”
Ah yes. Truly a heroic struggle. Clearly we have nothing to fear as long as Vick is on the job. Terrorism as we know it is surely at an end. Provided they vacation in Surrey and chill out on his sister's couch anyhow.
SC: “So you might want to ask my sister in law why she let him go.”
If I may be so bold as to propose an alternative sequence of events here. I don’t think that your sister let a terrorist mastermind go, per say. I think what she did do was wake up at 3 in the morning to find you in her backyard, butt naked and yelling obscenities while trying to beat her patio furniture to death with a Nerf Blaster. So let me be the first to assure you, while he may have gotten away this time, we will do everything in our power to track down this rogue lawn chair and bring him to justice.
Not Again
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “<grunt>”
Me: “….pardon?”
SC: “<grunt>”
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: "<grunt>"
Me: "Are. You. Calling. To. Place. An. Order."
SC: “Yeah.”
Your primitive ape like grunting may pass for communication in your disheveled community. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on actual spoken language if you want to place an order with me.
Me: “Alright, that comes to $872-“
SC: “<grunt>, Ok.”
Of which $800 was pants. Pants. You ordered $800 worth of pants. All in the same size too, so obviously all for yourself as I doubt the entire family is a size 30 waist. Still, I must once again return to my original statement: You bought $800 worth of PANTS. That isn’t shopping, that’s a psychological disorder. You have a problem and should seek professional help from someone other than Dr. Budweiser.
Sometimes.....Its The Client
( This it the building manager I'm speaking with.... )
Me: “Alright, I have a call here for you from Constable <Name>”
OC: “What does he want?!”
Me: “He needs access to your building to respond to a 911 call.”
OC: “Well tell him to call a locksmith!”
….um, no. Why don’t you go tell Constable <Name> to call a locksmith?
Me: “He’s from the RCMP, they need access to the building.”
OC: “Why?!”
Me: “They received a call from the building-“
OC: “Then why can’t who ever called them let them in?!”
Perhaps who ever called them is currently being beaten to death by a burglar, I don’t know. My God. Just take the damn call, would you? That is your job is it not? Its what they pay you for, isn't it? Its why you're on call.
OC: “Call him back and make him tell you why he's there! <click>"
Did you just hang up on me? Oh, you…you…wench. Novel idea, how about you call the Constable back and interrogate him. I’m not about to grill an RCMP officer on your behalf. You may not have a shred of respect for the uniform, but I do and I prefer to keep my statements within the realm of “Yes, sir”, “No, sir” and “Thank you, sir”. If you want to call him back and berate him like a shrill harpy, by all means. But realize if he calls me back afterwards I’ll be fully obligated to provide him with your name and address and advise him to have his tazer ready as you're known to be combative.
annnnd rest. -.-
#1 Threat
SC: “I’m not sure who to call.”
Me: “What’s the problem?
SC: “There’s a bear.”
Well, good luck!
My list of emergency’s is pretty clear as to what is, and what isn’t an emergency. And I’m afraid “OH GOD BEAR HELP” isn’t listed. That aside….your first impulse upon sighting a bear was “I better call my landlord”? Were you planning on taking your landlord to task? Perhaps: “Your rental ad clearly stated this was a bear free establishment! This is totally unacceptable!”
You're totally going to lose your damage deposit.
Really? You Have Nothing Better To Do?
SC: “Yes, you have a flagger out at <road work site> flagging!”
Me: “Alright?”
SC: “And he’s wearing SHORTS!”
Me: “……….I’m sorry?”
SC: “He’s wearing shorts!”
Me: “……..alright?”
SC: “That’s against the dress code!”
…..wow, ok. Three things here, really.
Number One: I’d be wearing shorts too. He has to stand in the sun all damn day today. He has my sympathy. Its been so hot out lately that my dress code has been half naked in my underwear, with the barn door open and a fan aimed squarely at my velvet marble bag. Inside. Cut the poor guy some slack.
Number Two: You have way too much time on your hands and need to re-examine your priorities in life.
Number Three: You are, honestly, what most people define as a "miserable cunt". Whose sole function in life must be tasting the sorrow of other living things. You really drove by the poor guy and became so offended by his bare calves you had to call someone to try and report him? At 5am? Really?
Hell, tell me where he is. I want to run by with a cooler full of fine beverages for him and his compatriots. They’ll need something to press against their harpy scratches.
Milkshake
I feel I must address a fatal flaw without our transit system….a design oversight which haunts me weekly. I speak of course of the second generation of Skytrain cars. The white ones that have the look of the future but not yet the comfortable seats of the future like the black cars. These Skytrains possess a critical flaw: The seats face each other across the doors.
Surely, this can’t be that bad a problem you say. A little awkward to have the person across from you directly facing you, but no big deal. Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but you’ve never had a creepy old guy that looks like Bob Dole with Friar Tuck’s haircut stare at you from Metrotown to Stadium with a look on his face like he thinks you’re….delicious. His gaze would occasionally waver away when the train stopped and other….delicious specimens ( Of the young, nimble variety ) got on or got off of the train. But those lustful eyes would always return to me….as I had nowhere to run.
…I wonder what time I’d have to leave home in order to walk downtown and get here on time.
Drink It Up?
Me: “Alright, so it was John. J-O-H-N?”
SC: “Yes, ma’am”
Ah, forgive me. I see another halpless male has fallen for my siren call. I do try to remember to not use my deliciously silky chocolate voice in such a manner as to lavish your ear canals with temptations. But sometimes I forget I’m just one call away from an involuntary sex change and an attentive man harem. Normally, this might cause panic in the average heterosexual man. However, I see this as an opportunity to get some work done around the house. Without actually having to do this work myself.
When life gives you lemons, have them build a shed.
The Gift of Giving
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “Medium”
Me: “I’m afraid I only have it in small.”
SC: “I’ll take it.”
Sure, just a bit snug, that’s all.
Me: “Anything else?”
SC: “xxxx, medium”
Me: “Hmm, afraid I only have that in 2XL”
SC: “I’ll take it."
Sure, just a bit loose, that’s all.
Me: “Alright, that comes to $xx-“
SC: “Huh? Why it so much? It should be $xx”
Me: “Oh, are you looking in the clearance section of the website?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “I’m afraid clearance prices are web only. You’d have to place the order through the website to get them.”
SC: “Oh, well I was just doin’ some Christmas shopping. Getting it out of the way.”
Wait…..you’re bargain bin diving the clearance section of the website and ordering things that aren’t quite the right size…..in July……as Christmas Presents?! Really, dude? You bought a bunch of $5 t-shirts, in the wrong size, and went “Welp, that’s my shoppin’ done this year!”? I’m sure your family and friends will appreciate their 75% off, wrong sized t-shirts in whatever colour we had left.
But hey, why stop there! You know you don’t even have to go on the Internet for this. There’s this marvelous thing called yard sales specifically geared for people such as yourself. Picture if you will: An entire front yard full of things nobody wants ( not even the owners ) where at least half of it will be $2 or less! You could get all your Christmas shopping done for the next 5 years in one stop alone for $20. Who wouldn’t want an assorted shoe box full of bald Barbie dolls, VHS movies, a stack of strangely stained doily’s and two coverless Nancy Drew books that were printed when Roosevelt was still in office? Hell, that’s not even a Christmas present! That’s an anniversary gift!
Seriously though, your Christmas shipping just cost more then your Christmas shopping.
Regret
C: “Hi, <Officer> here, I have a warm dead male-”
….Why did you do that? Why did you provide a temperature? Are you attempting to imply freshness? I do not need nor want to know these things.
C: “He’s been in the apartment for about 6 days, so he is gone.”
That is the opposite of freshness. Though I see now why you’re mentioning warmth as a factor. 6 days in the apartment in this weather with the windows closed......you didn’t know the true meaning of regret till you reached for that door knob, did you?
Gee, I Wonder Why?
Me: “Alright, so you’re only being detained till they can send you back to the US?”
SC: “Yes.”
Me: “I’m afraid there’s not our lawyers can do for you if you’re just being deported and not charged with anything.”
SC: “Yeah, but why should I have to go to jail! I haven’t done anything! I’ll be among inmates! I shouldn’t be among people like that! It's not right!"
I would submit you have very little say in the matter at this point. I somehow have my doubts about this whole “Oh lawd they shipping me to prison!” story of yours. You are not being arrested, only being asked to leave and thus must be held in custody until they can put you on a plane and get you out of our country. This is not the sort of infraction that should cause them to lock you up in prison. You know, since you have supposedly done nothing and are merely an innocent victim of circumstance.
Me: “Hmm, alright, may I speak with the officer there?”
SC: “Yeah sure.”
It is time to get my clue on as it were, and discover the true nature of this simpering beast.
O: “Normally, we'd just keep him at the airport in a holding area till his return flight. But based on past criminal record airport security can decline to hold him if they want. In which case its off to jail.”
Ah, I see. There is the clue I seek. So what precisely did our totally innocent, delicate little snowflake do that would bar him from this dull beige holy land?
O: “Seeing as he has 6 previous convictions for assaults on police officers-“
Thus we have the answer to our riddle, children. If you do not want to be locked up in an actual prison, perhaps you shouldn’t, you know, attack police officers. They do not take kindly to that sort of thing.
Hot Tips
( Seriously, this guy has to have a blog somewhere. )
SC: “My name is Vick.”
Sigh, hello Vick. What is it now?
SC: “I just got into an argument with my sister.”
That’s nice. What the Hell, and I would like to re-emphasize the word “Hell” again, and perhaps prefix it with "Fucking", just to make sure you are accurately capturing my aggravation and disbelief, the Hell does that have to do with us?
SC: “You better ask her why her friends let Khalid Sheikh Mohammad and his nephew get out of Surrey.”
…you want me to ask your sister why she aided in the escape of Khalid Sheikh Mohammad, who I should point out is currently in Gitmo, escape from Surrey? So you think one of the terrorist masterminds behind 9/11 was in Surrey this evening ( I guess Gitmo issues day passes )….and the only way he eluded capture at your capable hands was because of your sister.
What are you smoking and have you considered trying to market it?
SC: “I had them dead to rights! I knocked his teeth out with the butt end of my rifle!”
Ah yes. Truly a heroic struggle. Clearly we have nothing to fear as long as Vick is on the job. Terrorism as we know it is surely at an end. Provided they vacation in Surrey and chill out on his sister's couch anyhow.
SC: “So you might want to ask my sister in law why she let him go.”
If I may be so bold as to propose an alternative sequence of events here. I don’t think that your sister let a terrorist mastermind go, per say. I think what she did do was wake up at 3 in the morning to find you in her backyard, butt naked and yelling obscenities while trying to beat her patio furniture to death with a Nerf Blaster. So let me be the first to assure you, while he may have gotten away this time, we will do everything in our power to track down this rogue lawn chair and bring him to justice.
Not Again
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “<grunt>”
Me: “….pardon?”
SC: “<grunt>”
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: "<grunt>"
Me: "Are. You. Calling. To. Place. An. Order."
SC: “Yeah.”
Your primitive ape like grunting may pass for communication in your disheveled community. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on actual spoken language if you want to place an order with me.
Me: “Alright, that comes to $872-“
SC: “<grunt>, Ok.”
Of which $800 was pants. Pants. You ordered $800 worth of pants. All in the same size too, so obviously all for yourself as I doubt the entire family is a size 30 waist. Still, I must once again return to my original statement: You bought $800 worth of PANTS. That isn’t shopping, that’s a psychological disorder. You have a problem and should seek professional help from someone other than Dr. Budweiser.
Sometimes.....Its The Client
( This it the building manager I'm speaking with.... )
Me: “Alright, I have a call here for you from Constable <Name>”
OC: “What does he want?!”
Me: “He needs access to your building to respond to a 911 call.”
OC: “Well tell him to call a locksmith!”
….um, no. Why don’t you go tell Constable <Name> to call a locksmith?
Me: “He’s from the RCMP, they need access to the building.”
OC: “Why?!”
Me: “They received a call from the building-“
OC: “Then why can’t who ever called them let them in?!”
Perhaps who ever called them is currently being beaten to death by a burglar, I don’t know. My God. Just take the damn call, would you? That is your job is it not? Its what they pay you for, isn't it? Its why you're on call.
OC: “Call him back and make him tell you why he's there! <click>"
Did you just hang up on me? Oh, you…you…wench. Novel idea, how about you call the Constable back and interrogate him. I’m not about to grill an RCMP officer on your behalf. You may not have a shred of respect for the uniform, but I do and I prefer to keep my statements within the realm of “Yes, sir”, “No, sir” and “Thank you, sir”. If you want to call him back and berate him like a shrill harpy, by all means. But realize if he calls me back afterwards I’ll be fully obligated to provide him with your name and address and advise him to have his tazer ready as you're known to be combative.
annnnd rest. -.-
I write, my friend Red draws. Comments welcome. Leave them on their, or on my profile here. 
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