Yes, I’ll have the deep-fried Go Fuck Yourself.

For one of Richard and Neil’s skits, Richard asked me last night to design a label for a bottle of “endangered species sauce” to be plastered onto an old bottle of mayo. He came over with Neil today to pick up the result which, I have to admit, turned out pretty well. It was based on an existing President’s Choice mayo label so it was fun to make the mock-up of the mock sauce label, and to look for some suitable type and a treatment for it. Personally, I prefer the “Woefully Ignorant” flavour over the somewhat overpowering “Extra Pompous” flavour pictured here. Even the “Heedlessly Indifferent” flavour ain’t bad.

A bunch of us decided to play trivia in Tyne Valley tonight at The Landing and have dinner there beforehand. Starving and wanting a hearty meal, I ordered a steak but was told rather bluntly by our server that they didn’t have any steak. She did the rounds while I looked over the menu for something else then came back to me. I ordered the hot hamburger sandwich. They were out of bread and peas. Seriously? Bread!? I could feel my blood boiling and my ears starting to burn. How they managed to be out of those two very basic things, especially when a convenience store sits next door, is beyond me. Here’s an idea: how about when you hand out the menus you inform the table of hungry patrons which items aren’t available for the evening so as to save time and avoid any confusion and quibbles. Just a suggestion though.

So, mighty pissed off at that point and expecting any order I make to be shot down, I ground down on my molars and settled on a simple cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. As you can imagine, I was so very delightfully surprised to hear they actually had the requisite bun and cheese that a hamburger patty needs for assembly into a cheeseburger. I was over the moon…

When she came back with everyone’s drinks, mine was not-so-surprisingly absent from the delivery. At that point, I was convinced she had it out for me for whatever reason so I stewed in my seat debating whether or not I should leave and tell her off, or just buck up and get over it. Andrew was nice enough to fetch a beer for me, and soon all was seeming a little more peachy since the food was damn good, including the rhubarb custard crumble pie I ordered for dessert. The food being so good somewhat made up for the frustration over the poor service but just barely.

Trivia was alright but the annoyances started up once again when things were kicked off with an announcement that both the winners and the losers would each have to sing a karaoke song afterwards. Delightful. She just gave me even more of an excuse to be a grumpy, complaining arsehole for the rest of the night—just what everyone at the table wanted! Of course, we ended up placing first which meant our team had to sing, something I really can’t stand for a number of reasons. Needless to say, I quite simply hate karaoke and also don’t like singing in front of people, or singing at all really because I can’t in the first place. Moreover, I find being forced and actually expected to sing karaoke especially irritating, and even more especially when the winners have to sing. That doesn’t even make sense in my mind. In fact, we weren’t even allowed to receive our winnings until after we sang for our money, making me all the more cranky. We won another small victory, though, when the host dropped a pile of cash in the middle of the table before the karaoke even started, and our waitress lady/karaoke nazi got upset and yelled at him for it. Your plans have been foiled, woman! Your rules and regulations ignored! Good enough. It was nice to see someone piss her off for a change.

Being the stubborn baby that I am, there was no way in hell I was getting up to sing karaoke against my will. I wasn’t about to have someone else’s obsession with karaoke and lame rules be forced upon me. So I busied myself at the bar, splitting up winnings and squaring away my tab, while the rest of the team did their best group rendition of Sweet Caroline. Once other people started getting up to sing their songs, it quite quickly became time to leave. I don’t expect I’ll ever return either.

I got home and watched G.I. Joe webisodes on YouTube. I began to feel better.

To design one would be a crowning achievement.

I really, really, really want to design graphics for a bottle of pop, beer, juice, whatever. As long as it has a bottle cap I can emblazon with something as cool as the Boylan Bottling Company’s cap then I’ll be quite happy. The twist-off plastic tops just don’t compare by any means to the classic crimped crown metal top.

I think I may need to start collecting bottle caps again like I did when I was a kid. The well-designed ones, old or new, are great little pieces of visual inspiration. They also take up very little room which is a nice bonus for someone like me who has so much junk.

Reconsidering my stance on capital punishment.

The guy who punched me in the mouth while I stood in a McDonald’s line-up back when I was in high school is now facing charges of two counts of assault with a weapon (a knife), one of assault causing bodily harm, two counts of aggravated assault and one count of breach of probation. Turns out he stabbed a couple of dudes on a beach and assaulted another guy at the same time. A real nice fella. Good to see he’s become such a fine, upstanding citizen since the ’90s.

He sure knows how to get himself into a bunch of trouble and hurt lots of people while he’s at it. After Googling the guy I’ll simply refer to as “Punchy Clay Stabbington”, I discovered some very interesting but not overly surprising facts about his life of crime. First, he was a pill head and probably still is. Second, he was questioned as a person of interest in the Beairsto murder trial but his alibi cleared him (unfortunately). Funny thing about his testimony, he did so while serving a jail sentence at the time for another crime he had committed. Could it have been for this third item from 2007 I came across? He faced charges of assault, possession of stolen property and breach of probation in connection with an incident which some witnesses suggested resembled a carjacking.

Carjacking? Really? Wow, I find it very, very difficult to believe he’d do something like that. Oh, wait. Sorry, what’s that? It wasn’t a carjacking but an incident linked to a domestic matter that just sorta, kinda looked like a carjacking, you say? He only smashed the window out of a car, dragged a woman through said window and took off in that vehicle? Phew. Ok, then. Geez, I was going to say that sure as heck doesn’t sound like the guy who punched me in the braces without any provocation, stabbed a couple of guys in the back at a beach party, and threatened to throw a chair at a particular judge in his faux-carjacking case. Golly. You sure had me going there for a minute…

Just think, those incidents are only from his early thirties! There are a good ten years unaccounted for up until that point! Unless he was in jail or under house arrest for a good portion of that time, he had at least a solid decade to hone his criminal craft before the knife fights started on the beach. What important milestones have I missed in all those years, I wonder? Surely he didn’t go from simple, drunken face punchin’s in the quainter era of his early twenties and jump straight into the more advanced stabbings a decade later without lots and lots of practice? Maybe he’s just a natural. Regardless, the guy is good at what he does, I’ll give him that. A real pro, with the leg shackles to prove it.

Back when I ran mouth-long into his fist, it’s a good thing he was still only in his punchy stage and not yet in his stabby one.

Heavenly Typography.

Melissa sent me a photo of a restaurant window she passed by with some type on it that she thought I’d like. She was correct. I hope their menu offerings can compete with their dimensionally-delicious logotype.

I made a pizza today that turned out way better than I was expecting. In fact, it was delicious and I’m quite proud of myself for having made such a tasty pizza. I topped homemade dough with a pesto tomato sauce, chicken, pine nuts, mushrooms, onions and cheeses. I’m hungry again just thinking about it.

Hopefully it can store a girl’s phone number.

Holy crap! I heard back from the Nintoaster guy today about the Powerglove cell phone idea Ian and I had. He thinks it’s an incredible idea and wants to make one with an old cell phone and thinks all of the buttons on the Powerglove might actually be usable for functions on the phone! Oh, if this thing gets made it’ll be awesome!

I’d rather lose to Skynet than Mark MacDonald.

Tonight, Mark, Jill and I went to see Terminator Salvation but decided to play a couple of games of air hockey before the movie. There wasn’t any bloodshed but the puck did fly far and wide off the table from violent slap shots (mostly due to Mark’s wind-up and because he’s a jerk who wants to inflict harm upon me). Thankfully, no one lost an eye or any teeth. Mark did, however, beat me in both games but I was just happy to be able to play some damn air hockey again.

The movie definitely had a great look but was otherwise just alright. I gotta say that most of the special effects were amazing to see and there were insane continuous camera shots during some action sequences, but the rest of the movie was pretty bleh by comparison. I know it was a big-time, action blockbuster so I shouldn’t have expected much beyond explosions, lasers, and rasslin’ but the snakes and runnin’-style foolishness was the only good thing about the entire movie. There was some truly terrible dialogue throughout and I had no connection with any of the characters whatsoever. I didn’t give a shit if any of the humans survived the global robotic onslaught. I kinda wish Skynet had won actually.

Taken to the back room and severely beaten.

D’Arcy had a coupon for a free rental of the private room at Dooly’s so a bunch of people showed up to hang out, play pool and drink beer. I was thoroughly murdered at pool in mostly every game I played, especially against the likes of D’Arcy or Terry. Food also made its way into the room after a big mess of garlic fingers was ordered, plus I had a slice of greasy, over-cooked, heart-attack meat pizza too. Dough and cheese please. Man, that was a bunch of crap I didn’t need one little bit. Sure was good though.

Dear, Cholesterol. I’d like you to meet someone.

Farm fresh eggs sizzling in the fat of spicy chorizo. The start of a great gawdamn day.

When Vegan Hobos and German Hobos Mix.

While at the market this morning getting a mocha latté and some sushi, Gail was nice enough to give me a free chorizo link and a stuffed pepper. I know that both of those things will taste good but being free will make them all that much tastier.

I got back to the house to find Kyle and Julia just waking up from their long sleep in the hobo room on the little hobo bed, and then we were off to grab some breakfast at The Link (not that I needed any more food so soon after the market).

Where Astronauts and Futurists Go To Retire.

A meeting meant I was able to take a lovely drive out to Cavendish to meet with a potential client about a website, and could stop to take some photos on a super nice but extremely windy day. I chose a quiet, peaceful place; a place with wide open fields of lush green grass banking the winding shoreline, its pastures flanked by the dark green points of conifers in the distance and there, just beyond the fence keeping human intrusions from this serene sward, a weathered space shuttle replica and a giant, silver geodesic dome. Captain Bart’s Adventure Park has seen better days.

Right after I got home, Kyle and Julia, his girlfriend from Germany, stopped by for a visit and I went out to eat with them, Kyle’s cousin and her friend from the Bahamas. Sharon joined in on the international gathering we were having in the fancy dining room at The Loyalist, too. After dinner there was trivia and we ended up with another giant team as usual. I’m thinking I may not bother going to trivia any more actually. I really feel it’s getting old, it has been for a while but there’s not a whole helluva lot of other options for fun it would seem. I hung around for a bit at the bar but had to leave because I couldn’t stand the shitty music and the crowd quickly filling the place.

Forsaken by a Fair-weather Feline Friend.

Being that it was such a nice day, I made use of both the front step and the back step for some outdoor sitting and enjoying the weather. My two kitty buddies from across the street came over for a visit; Max in the front yard and Petey out back. He acted like a weirdo, though, stalked my camera and then took off after getting mixed up with a couple of troublemaking neighbourhood cats.

Tonight I headed over to Greg’s to watch the Lost season finale…and what a finale. Those bastards and their crazy-dramatic cliffhangers. Waiting for season six is going to be painful!

Wehhhll, hellllll-lo!

After getting some badly needed groceries (and some not-so-badly needed ones my empty stomach compelled me to buy), setting up some new software and hardware on my dad’s eMac, and wishing mom a happy birthday, I finally got home to make some food and sat down to watch Fanboys with Mike, Pat and Nathan. Then we all laughed at Donnie Donegan from Son of Frankenstein.

And on the fifth day He said, “Let there be surf!”

Friday morning I drove over to Halifax to take in some surf shows and to otherwise just get the hell off PEI again. I managed to only barely get lost this time before finding Shawn and Bryanna’s new spot; a great old place with high ceilings, lots of space and a balcony to boot. Around 3:00, Shawn and I made our way down the street past some major street construction to grab some grub at Darryl’s, which I believe used to be called My Other Brother Darryl’s. My parents took me there when I was out on a day pass from the hospital when I was fifteen. I remember the food being good but feeling bad that they took me out to eat and I didn’t have it in me to eat very much at that time. But I think the remainder of my chocolate milkshake that sat in a frosted metal cup made its way back to the hospital with me at least.

While I looked over the menu’s milkshakes list trying to remember if I was sitting in the same restaurant I did fifteen years ago, Ian joined us for lunch. I’d heard people going on about their Peanut Butter Burger but I’d be damned if I could taste any peanut butter on it. Not a hint of P.B. whatsoever. Either that or they completely forgot to put it on, in which case I got a regular burger and therefore not what I ordered. That wouldn’t surprise me in the least actually but it’s nice to know that people can mess up my orders equally in any province.

Just around the corner was a little place called the Gingerbread Haus where I found myself entering a wonderland of marvelicious baked goods. Solche Zartheit! I didn’t know where to begin—between the cakes, cookies, breads and sweets it was tough to decide what I should buy to jump-start the onset of diabetes. I settled on a giant gingerbread man (that was made to do filthy things with another gingerbread man), an almond cluster thingie, almond shortbread, and an Almond Horn—something I haven’t had since I was last at Max’s Deli & Bakery in Vancouver. They’re quite possibly the greatest baked good ever conceived, and to find a place on the east coast that sells them (a place down the street from Shawn’s no less!) is nothing short of miraculous. Ryan Recommends™ again.

Shawn and I decided, after several episodes of South Park, that nearly three hours was more than long enough to wait before going to eat another full meal. This time it would be at Hungry Chili where Ryan Recommends™ the Sweet & Tangy Chicken. Such good food to be had there, and it worked out well that it was just down the street from The Seahorse where Guitar-Fest V would be happening. And where, somewhat surprisingly, there was a line-up with lots of mom and dad types no doubt waiting to see the long-awaited reunion of The Great Scots. Unfortunately, I knew nothing of The Great Scots other than what I had read in a few articles before the show. I was there to see the surf acts mostly, even though I was interested to hear what all the fuss was about over TGS.

First up was Los Twisteleros, basically the original Urban Surf Kings line-up wearing paper mustaches and speaking Spanish, playing a sweet set with everything from Link Wray to The Ventures to Los Straitjackets. The emcee for the night was this strange cat named Unsteady Freddy from New York who offered up some pretty classic lines and gags throughout the night. He introduced Brad Conrad with his Stray Cats tribute band, featuring the familiar faces of Mike Farrington on bass and Damien Moynihan on drums. I’m not overly familiar with the Stray Cats but after hearing the swingin’ set of covers I’m thinking I should be getting some of their CDs.

The joint was jam-packed and, in a way, it felt not unlike being at the Silver Fox due to the baby boomers filling the place and having a great time. The Great Scots were up next and this group of guys were reuniting after forty-three years to play to a very energetic and appreciative audience. Their set was a mix of Little Richard, Illsley Brothers, some classic R&B tunes and others that had an Animals sound. Their singer could belt them out and they put on a great show, received an award from some local radio station, and had an enthusiastic audience response.

I guess the majority of the crowd saw what they came for because the place thinned out quite a bit after the Scots’ set, which I was fine with because it meant there were less people in my way when USK took to the stage. Their set seemed to be nearly the same one I saw a month ago but I didn’t care because I could see them play every weekend and enjoy it, and there was a lot more going on at this show than at some open mic.

Ninth Wave followed USK, having made a fifteen-hour drive up from Connecticut to play the show. I was really looking forward to seeing these guys play their brand of hot-rod surf as I’d been listening to a few of their tracks for years now and was blown away by how awesome they were. They had such a great guitar sound and the farfisa and flute gave their tunes a different sound. Mike, the guitar player and a super nice guy, chatted and sold us some CDs after their set, was crazy into the genre, and pretty damn intense about it actually.

Some douchebag was making his way around the bar being a really obnoxious pig. I made a conscious effort to avoid him after he talked to me and said some things even I found filthy. Shawn told him over and over again, in no uncertain terms, to leave him alone. The dude was hitting on any and all females in his line of sight, and I thought the 9th Wave bass player was going to deck him when he was hounding his girlfriend. I sort of wish he had but in the end the guy was tossed out and didn’t end up serving as a distraction for The Fabulous Venturamas’ set of the Walk—Don’t Run album from top to bottom. It was so good with Rev. Hank and Brad twanging away on the guitars, Inky back on the drums and the weird guy I saw at last year’s fest playing a sweet looking Danelectro bass. I was so damn happy and excited to hear The Ventures’ tunes being played live again, some of which I didn’t know and was getting a great introduction to, and then others like Sleepwalk that sounded so very, very sweet. So much surf, so much twang, so much awesomeness in one night, I don’t think I’ll be surf-starved any time soon after that show. And there was still one more show to take in! Shawn and I grabbed some slices on the way home and called it a night. Satisfied? I think so.

The next day, Shawn and I walked to Scotia Square, me stopping along the way to snap pics of cool signs/type, and grabbed some grub at the food court before heading over to Freak Lunchbox so Bryanna could make us some milkshakes. Mine was made with Nutella and was mighty tasty, especially with the little bits of chilled Nutella still floating around in the shake (ahem…Ryan Recommends™). While watching some more South Park after a disc of Golden Girls episodes wouldn’t work, Shawn introduced me to the Cadbury Double Decker bar and I’m in complete agreement with him that it quite possibly could be the greatest chocolate bar of all time. This time both Shawn & Ryan Recommend™. Still, one chocolate bar and a Nutella milkshake didn’t seem like quite enough sugar for the entire day so I bought some more goodies from Gingerbread Haus. This time, though, I got extra almond horns to bring back to Mom and Dad because I need to share their köstlich goodness. Besides, I needed to go back because I had my sights set on one of their giant chocolate-coated macaroons and a Florentiner, whatever the hell those things are. All I know is, it looked good.

I drove Shawn and Bryanna over to their friend’s apartment to help her unload some of her junk before she moved. One item in particular was a pup tent for her kitty and now it’s for Potato to crawl into. Then more food was in order so Shawn and I headed back to Hungry Chili again to meet up with Ian and Holly for dinner. Earning the RR™ seal this time around: the Glass Chicken with its perfect amount of spiciness, lots of noodles and chicken, and fresh, crisp veggies. Ian and Holly didn’t come along with us to the show at The Foggy Goggle and, while the two of us waited for the show to start, we both ordered the Belgian Chocolate Brownie with ice cream for dessert. That brownie, while a bit on the small side, was quite honestly nothing short of amazing. I’m prone to hyperbole but that brownie was the brownie of all brownies, putting all others to shame. Honestly. Shawn was right on the money with his dessert suggestion and was absolutely correct in saying each bite of brownie was just like eating the very first bite of brownie, each bite was just as good as the last. Again, Shawn & Ryan Recommend™.

Rev. Hank came over and we chatted for a bit, he joked about me being his PEI stalker and we otherwise gabbed about some of the bands we listen to. At one point, Hank said he had even heard of The Evil Agents, however the hell that’s possible. Rev. Hank told me that he knows Eddie Angel from Los Straitjackets and mentioned he might contact him about coming up to play Guitar-Fest sometime. It would be utterly amazing if he could make that happen. Seeing Los Straitjackets at GF would be crazy. Rev. Hank also said he’ll be going to a surf fest in Tuscani, and that they asked him to play while he’s there so that’s cool news. I’d love to take in a surf fest in Italy, it would only be slightly different than one in Halifax.

USK opened the show to kick off the second night of surf. Other than a few scattered patrons, the 9th Wave and the bands’ significant others, there was only me and Shawn sitting on a couch as the audience. It was essentially a private show with USK playing a great set including the theme from Spider-Man and A Shot In The Dark. Mike from 9th Wave asked me before the show if I had any requests so I asked if they would play Sci-fi Spy. The entire time USK played, he was off working on a set list and, when they got up to play, Sci-fi Spy had made it into the list along with their cover of Shadowy Men’s Customized. So awesome. They put on another fantastic show before both bands teamed-up to play one last set with covers of The Ventures and Dick Dale, and a big medley of twangy tunes.

By the end of the night I was thoroughly satisfied with my surf intake for the weekend. Even if that smaller show had been the only one I caught this time around, it was more than worth the trip over. Both shows certainly made for an awesome little getaway and a chance to hear some great tunes, see some new bands and eat tonnes of good food.

Late this morning, Shawn and I headed out to get Bryanna’s sister, Alyssa, and her boyfriend, Mike, to go see Star Trek at the IMAX. The plan was to get our tickets, grab a quick bite to eat and then meet up with Ian and Holly to find seats. When we got to the theatre, it turned out that the show was starting a half hour earlier than the time on the website we checked before leaving. I couldn’t get a hold of Ian to tell him, we didn’t have time to eat so I had to go in starving, only to get split up because it was already packed, forcing me and Shawn to sit in the bloody front row. Not exactly the first IMAX experience I was hoping for, and another fine example of Empire Theatres sucking and ruining my movie going experience. Star Trek being awesome saved the day though. They pulled off a great new start for the franchise. The casting was pretty good overall (McCoy was spot-on perfect, though) and the time traveling didn’t even bother me. Well, not much anyway.

Before heading for home, I needed to go to Pete’s Frootique first to pick up some birch beer for Dad and settled on getting some sushi while I was there because I would be remiss to leave Halifax again without having any. I would have rather eaten at Momoya but I can’t parallel park and didn’t feel like making the walk all the way down there and leaving my car back in the parking garage. But after eating and making my way down Barrington to leave the city, I got a hankering for a Double Decker bar as I neared Freak Lunchbox. Lo and behold, there was an end spot on the street which was great for my chocolate fix but also, ironically, put me twelve seconds from Momoya after having just got my fill of sushi. Oh well, there’s always next time.

I got back to Summerside and dropped in to wish Mom a happy Mother’s Day first and to give Dad his birch beer. When I got home, Mike and Tammy were at the house with Pat who was back on the island for a visit. Always good to see Pat again and to talk about blood and gore and sci-fi.

Content Cat Captures Fresh Frightened Fowl.

I was on my way out to run a few errands when Max the kitty started running over from his house across the street to say hi but got distracted by something on his way. He veered off toward what I thought was a small dog on the other side of the bushes but it turned out to be another neighbourhood cat, one with a live robin in its mouth that was still flapping its wings and chirping. I really hate seeing stuff like that. I feel terrible for the little birds because the cats end up torturing them before eating them, the sadistic bastards. Actually, it was quite a large bird for such a small cat to have in its maw. He took off with his caught prey, walking tall with much import, quite proud of his big catch and eventual supper.

Weasel Trains Offer Discount Bobbles and Wine!

I will never understand exactly how people entering the following search strings end up finding my site. My stats seem to indicate that these random key phrases relate to content I’ve posted but I’m fairly certain these specific phrasings don’t appear anywhere:

-egyptian nude hunks
-im selling mushrooms to looney toons there probably going to sue me soon
-urinary catheter boner
-pudding cup butt

Certainly, the topic of pudding cups has appeared at least a few times in my posts, and some of the other words without a doubt, but never in these particular combinations but…oh, wait. I forgot, there was that time I posted something about Egyptian nude hunks always getting boners after having urinary catheters inserted. I guess mundane subjects like that tend to get lost in my memory, and understandably so.

Deep-fried Food For Thought.

I’m so bloody sore from doing yard work today, due mostly to the fact that I’m so terribly out of shape. Food does wonders for taking my mind off aches and pains though. I went to K’town with my family for my early birthday dinner but the restaurant we wanted to try out was closed so we came back in town and ate at the Starlite instead. Even though everything was good, I just can’t eat deep-fried food like I used to. I immediately start to feel gross even before I’m done eating. And nothing sits better on top of a fish burger, onion rings and coffee mocha shake stomach than a big chocolate fudge sundae. Mmm.

A walk tonight was in order to work off the dairy bar caloric intake madness. I found a lone, slimy tomato slice laying on the pavement downtown. I apparently couldn’t find the proper focus though.

I believe I’ll leave the leaves.

As much as I dislike doing it, I spent the day doing yard work. It was a nice day for it, thankfully, so it wasn’t so bad, and taking care of this chore in the spring is a much better idea than tackling raking in the fall. I never understood why people bothered cleaning up their yards while leaves are still falling and blowing around everywhere, like from other people’s yards who haven’t raked yet. Yards like mine.

There were tonnes of branches and limbs to break, cut and saw this year because of all the damage the ice storms and wind had caused but at least the leaf bag count seemed to be down this year. I wonder if it’s because a good portion of the leaves ended up in my neighbours’ yards last fall…after they raked.

Rollin’ with two bitches in my sick Olds Alero.

After grabbing a few things at the market this morning, I stopped by my parents’ place but only found the dogs at home. Dad wouldn’t be back for a while to take them for their run so I decided to take them for a short spin around town. I’ve never driven anywhere with those two in my car before. Driving around with dogs just feels goofy, especially with those dum-dums falling all over the place and sticking their heads out the windows. They were pretty excited to be going in the car and left it smelling stinky dog fresh. I got back just after Dad did so their routine didn’t get interrupted and they scored two car rides in one day.

I ended up getting hungry later on, as one is prone to do after a long day of doing nothing and driving dogs around town on a personal sightseeing tour. Seeing as the propane ran out, my options were somewhat limited as far as cooking went. I could have gone the prepared foods route and made use of the microwave. There was the dry goods alternative, too, as I had ample choice of several cereals. I also could have toasted a variety of foods and applied spreads, condiments or toppings to them. No, instead, I opted to forego those alternatives or a combination thereof and resorted to running out to get a paper bag full of BK and felt ill because of it.

Why does crappy food have to taste so gawdamn good?

Putting the Super in Supper.

I had a couple of meetings in Ch’town this afternoon and headed out the door with a teeny Special K bar in my belly and one mighty gross cup of coffee in my hand. It reminded me of my last 9-to-5 job because it was made in my old single-cup coffee maker that I kept at the office. So hardly a breakfast to speak of, a terrible cup-a-joe, and I was, of course, late for my first meeting. Helluva way to start off the day.

I went over to the college and had a chat with Sandy about designing his website for my second meeting, chatted a bit with Nigel, and discovered it was the last official day of the course which explained why it was dark and quiet in the studio. The place is quite a bit different and, in a way, I wish I was taking the course now. It has evolved into quite a different beast over the years.

In need of better coffee and Internet access, I sat in the mall’s food court checking Internet stuff before meeting up with Shannon for another coffee at Timothy’s. Since I didn’t manage to consume anything in my province’s capital other than coffee, I ended up heading back to town with my stomach crying for grub, hoping to make it to trivia by its new Friday time at its new Friday location. My dinner, instead of being Thai food, sushi or curry from a good restaurant in Ch’town, ended up being Super Fries With The Works from The Heritage. I doubted just how super it would end up being at first but I was soon surprised. It was just like regular Fries With The Works except it was made “super” by the addition of both chicken and beef, plus two kinds of cheese. It wasn’t Pad Thai, California Roll or Butter Chicken by any means but it definitely was gooood, in that greasy, filling, comfort food sort of way. Well, half of it was good. The other half was consumed purely in an exercise of eating for the sake of eating. Feeding a hunger that wasn’t really hungry any more.

Of course, I had to opt-in for some dessert after Griffen made me accompany her to the kitchen to see what was on the dessert menu. I settled on coconut cream pie even though the last time I had it there the pie was terrible. A huge let down from the delicious homemade coconut cream pie at the old place. This time, however, it was good. Even despite having a dense coconut filling—something I generally don’t like as much as the fluffier, creamier kind—I was pleased. It had lots of toasted coconut on top, too, which gave it a nice crunch. This very well could be the return of a glorious era of tasty pies past from The Heritage.

With winnings just enough to cover the cost of playing, some of our large team headed up to D’Arcy’s place to hang out for a while. Mostly everyone stayed in the basement, where all of the lung-blackening smoke was at, while Marcus and I sat in the living room. I’m not one to assume what someone else might have been thinking but I’m pretty sure we were both wondering why the hell we were even bothering to stick around. An answer of sorts soon presented itself. Pizza forced us to stay a little longer but even its tasty lure couldn’t keep us there for much longer and home we went.

Pizza right before bed is a bad idea though…