Not All He’s Cracked Up To Be

Personal Bits
My Dad wears hopeful shirts

My Dad wears hopeful shirts

Years ago my father and his lover use to get really drunk and then make plaster of Paris castings of tchotchkes for the boyfriend’s store. That’s a bit of an exaggeration but it’s fairly accurate to say that they would have a few good laughs pouring and selling plaster angels to the blue rinse crowd. Fast forward to the here and now, Dad has that boyfriend condemned to the past and physically incapable of drinking. The times oh they change. When I get the call from Dad I didn’t know it was going to unearth some of those memories:

“We have to clear my balcony.”

“Aren’t the renovations scheduled for summer 2010?”

“I want to get it done today.”

“The hottest day of the year?”

“Get over here.”

Renos on their way

Renos on their way

I know exactly what has he has in store for us. His 40ft condo balcony is covered from one end to the other in lattice work that has been screwed directly into the cement and various garden items. All of this has to come out as well as a 150lbs worth of plaster of Paris faux fireplace hearth, precariously glued to one wall.

SharkBoy and I grab our drills and make short work of the lattice, with few slivers and no poked out eyes. The plaster hearth comes apart in two pieces with one touch, like a suit jacket from Le Chateau and is disposed of deftly. It came time to shift the 4.5 ft tall David statue from his long time perch so we could clean up around him. Dad mused aloud about throwing him out.


Intact, but in tacky

Intact, but in tacky

“You can’t! You’ve had him for so long!” I complained. As these words left my mouth I noticed the faded beads and baubles from past Pride day parades around his neck. I recall his first arrival to Dad’s old apartment with a revulsion so strong I think my hand actually went to my mouth when I saw him. There was a joke there but I couldn’t see it at the time. In time, he grew on me. Like a long suffering lap dog, we would dressed him up for Xmas and hide Easter eggs around his person. Okay the last one was a lie, but you get the picture. He was with us a long time.


Torn Hamstring

Torn Hamstring

As we’re putting things back, SharkBoy lifts the David statue to reposition him back on his pedestal. The statue literally disintegrated in his hands. David had been outside for a few years, untreated and has withstood some pretty harsh winters. I’m surprised he’s made it this long.

We stop. And laugh. Nervously at first, but then more at SharkBoy’s utter embarrassment and not the fact that a long time “family” member has just suffered a major trauma. It’s a sad funny moment that was wordlessly communicated between us, but for each, entirely different reasons.


I wonder how long until someone notices

I wonder how long until someone notices

Fear not. We took the upper half of poor David and stuffed him into the ground in the condo’s communal garden. Weirdly enough his small “soft” (yet plaster hard) peener was the only thing that was keeping him upright. Still in our hearts until someone offended tosses him out.

The Hissing

Personal Bits

The dental hygenist takes her minty tasting gloves out of my mouth.

Suddenly I shoot a thin line of saliva up onto the air, like an Annie Sprinkle art piece, but from my mouth.

“Wooo!” she says.

“I am the spitting cobra!” I say in a faux Asian accent.

My mouth gets filled with rubberized fingers again. She probably sees this a lot.

Apple Tablet – Come To Me

Tech

Oh my googleygoo! Gizmodo has some hersay info on the often rumoured Apple Tablet that may or may not be coming out soon or later:

The device, which I’ve held mock ups of, is going to have a 10 inch screen, and when I saw it looked just like a giant iPhone, with a black back— although that design could change at any time” they said, “with the same black resin back, and the familiar home button.

This sounds pretty inevitable. Apple said they’d never make a netbook and this looks like their way of getting out of that never-say-never kind of slip up.

So I ask…

[poll id=”3″]

Tim Hortons – My Final Rant

You Stupid Dick

I know you know I’ve got a big hate on for Tim Hortons. I’ve actually not been inside one for over a year now – why should I give a company any of my money if they can’t train their staff to be polite?

I broke that rule this Sunday and ran into the Winchester and Parliament outlet at 7am for a quick bagel for the husband and I before we stared our apartment clean/Coronation Street marathon. I step up to the counter when called and started my order:

“Next please.”

“I’ll have a extra large Earl Grey Tea…”

She walks off. I’m left alone as my order trails off in my throat.

Seriously. She just walked away like her hard drive was full and all other functions shut down.

A few seconds later some other woman comes forward and asks for my order.

“Is she getting my first thing?”

“Who?”

“Her,” I point.

She turns and starts up a conversation. After a short exchange she turns back. “What would you like?”

“I guess she’s not, right?”

Blank. I might as well been talking to a wall.

After taking my order (extra large coffee, extra large tea, two toasted bagels), she still managed to fuck it up.

This morning, I read (via the growing Queer Canada Blogs) that while Timmys is making in-roads with their franchise into the US, one owner down there is running fast and loose with the company’s “no religious/political sponsorships” policy:

Via Truth Wins Out:

Canadian coffee and doughnut chain Tim Hortons is sponsoring the National Organization for Marriage’s antigay cookout and worship service on behalf of heterosexual-only marriage Aug. 16 at Aldrich Mansion in suburban Providence. Rhode Island is the last state in New England to oppose marriage equality.

While the article goes on to say that these kinds of community sponsorships are localized to the franchise owner, it’s still Tim Horton’s policy not to get involved with political events. TWO suggests you contact Tims and voice your concern. I did! And I got a “customer service number ticket” too!

So finally I will never set foot inside another Tim Hortons ever again and I urge you to do the same. While you may cry “But it’s a Canadian company!” I want you to ask yourself if it were so Canadian, why is it so utterly mis-managed and can’t get it’s corporate policy shit together? We’re better than this!

Hello Starbucks, with your huge corporation of greed and faux-green. You now have all my caffeine dollars.

Update: Tim Hortons backs down and withdraws with an apology. Still not going to change my mind about their crappy service.

Formative Pop – Irwin Allen pt 2

Celebs and Media, Robots

B9? Or Y-M3? Or was it Gunther? Whatever you call him, the robot from Lost In Space was pretty cool:

FYI here’s what the B9 figure says:
First bit: Japanese (Possibly “Danger! Danger!”?)
Second line: “Warning! Warning!”
Next: “Dinosaur!” Or something in Japanese
Then: A whole thwack of Japanese
Then: “I am sorry. It does not Compute.”
Suddenly: Another thwack of mumbled Japanese
Then: The most creepiest laugh ever. I don’t ever recall B9 laughing…