fine.

fleeting glances and happenstances

one time, i saw this panda and it was sitting, and eating, and it hit another panda in the head with a bamboo shoot by accident. that panda got so mad, with glaring and paw wavings, he became unbalanced and rolled down the hill. that panda got so much madder that he put on a hat and had tea with a bunny rabbit. except that the cups were empty. the cups are always empty in the forest where no tea leaves grow. milk is rare, painstakingly farmed from squirrels. the appropriate pandas themselves are flappy and unproductive in mammal juice due to their diet (bamboo and empty cups of tea) and lack of pregnancies. it seems to be a lot of work to impregnate a panda for just a spot of milk. whereas squirrels are almost always on tap. just hard to catch and even harder to coax milk out of their mammaries. one must have the jeweler's eye for detail and the nimble dexterity of the professional nostril miner. sadly, the pandas are a rarity in these times and days. the empty cups have taken their toll on the sadly misguided panda. this is not a metaphor.

John Morgan (1930-2004)

John Morgan, who played the dim-witted Mike from Canmore on CBC's The Royal Canadian Air Farce, was remembered Tuesday as "eccentric, talented, prolific and funny."

Morgan died Monday of a suspected heart attack at his home in Toronto...

later mike. you can be with norm now. sit, norm.

my.

"my, what a strong grip you have."
"the better to ignore the pain of the Baby i'm trying to birth," she winced.
"you're doing just fine. just breathe."
"no, i think it'll be more comfortable if i just hold my breath."
"labour has made you sardonic."
"and all these people looking between my legs has made you jealous."

Of course her speech was punctuated with contractions and various huffings and puffings, and his was hushed and what he took to be soothing, but it would not do to transcribe it so. As far as birthing rooms go, this one was spartan. White dominated every angle, the lights yellow in comparison. Apparently it helps the mother-to-be focus her efforts, not that her vision isn't already blurred with tears and perspiration. speaking of which, he mopped her face with a sodden handkerchief.

"we have towels for that, sir," piped a Helpful Nurse.
"oh, it's all right. they'd probably be more useful for the mess on the floor."
she shrugged and continued her work arranging and rearranging the tools of her trade. the doctor, meanwhile, whispered coaxings to the unborn baby, urging him or her to come out and play.

"breach!"
"told you those towels would come in handy." she was too busy to reply.
"placenta. tugging time, boys and girls."
"darling, our Doctor seems to be a bit of a quack."
"keep pushing, baby. and you too, Baby."
through the pain, she beamed at him. he gave her a quick kiss before moving over for a better view. with the placenta now dangling uncomfortably, cradled by Helpful Nurse's outstretched gloved hand, he found good reason to go back to the kissing.

"the Baby should be coming out feet first now. what say you, Ultrasonic Nurse?"
Ultrasonic Nurse nodded her agreement and continued focusing the sounding pad. the Doctor's view of the screen was plenty clear.

Ominous beeping pierced the cheerful labour banter.
"Doc, we've lost the pulse!"
"now is not a good time!"
"we should induce."
"she's too close for it to have any effect. it's up to her."

tuning it all out, he prayed for deliverance and delivery.

- - -

it was raining. pathetic fallacy, he mused, the very heavens weep for us. turning back to the clipboard in hand he filled out the necessary paperwork, the bills, the request for the body. the family and friends had all, thankfully, been ushered out politely by the ward's nurses. there was only so much condolance one could take.

he trudged back to her room and crawled under the covers. she was awake. tears sprung anew, but out of courtesy they sobbed quietly to each other until exhaustion overtook their grief and whisked them off to sleep. but not before he wiped her nose.

- - -

sleep was but temporary escape, though still preferable to being awake, which was a rather rotten feeling. the sun shone brightly, daring us to be happy. fat chance, Gas Ball. as he rubbed the crust from his eyes he found his wife awake, ceiling-gazing, quite possibly counting the holes in the tiles.

"12 403."
"i got 12 437. good morning." she continued to stare at the ceiling.
"its not your fault."
"i know."
"want to get out of here?"
"yeah."
"home?"
"not yet."

- - -

parking, they climbed on top of the hood, side by side, just like the good old days.

"just like the good old days." he echoed his thoughts. her only response was to curl up closer.

the leaves had just turned and were beginning to drop. the wind nipped but the heat of the engine warmed them from below. cirrus clouds wisped the secret messages of the winds in the sky as the sun warmed them from above. they were at a favourite Kodak Moment spot, a little parkette overlooking the valley and the opposite face. there the trees waved trichromatically, deciduous reds and olds, coniferous greens. it was there they had their first date. it was there he proposed. it was where they went to escape to think, to talk. it was where they went to celebrate the good stuff, and deal with the hard stuff.

"it was a boy."
"i suppose we ought to name him then. i don't think 'the Baby' really holds much water with kids these days."
"did you have something in mind?"
"not really. just whatever fit the moment."
"how about 'Not Fair'?" he pouted.
"you're pouting."
"a great male model was lost the day i picked up those books." that elicited a smirk, the first emotion she'd shown other than sorrow. they had met as he stooped to help her pick up her texts.
"not lost. just monopolized."
"selfish, selfish, selfish," he chided.
"is it selfish of me to want our Baby back?"
"no. we're allowed to covet God's possessions."
"it hurts."
"a lot. i love you."
"that helps."
he kissed her forehead and they spent the rest of the morning in silence.

- - -

Shadows are falling, and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for a while
If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for a while
When you get up in the morning, and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for a while
There's a train leaving nightly, called when all is said and done
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heat for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while

Hold me in your thoughts
Take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next you

Engine drivers headed north to pleasant street
Keep me in your heart for a while
These wheels keep turning but they're running out of steam
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while

somewhere only we know - keane

i walked across an empty land
i knew knew the pathway like the back of my hand
i felt the earth beneath my feet
sat by the river and it made me complete

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

i came across a fallen tree
i felt the branches of it looking at me
is this the place we used to love?
is this the place i've been dreaming of?

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

and if you have a minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go somewhere only we know,
somewhere only we know...

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

and if you havea minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go
so why don't we go...
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go
somewhere only we know
somewhere only we know
somewhere only we know...

now you can be cynical too

happy movie
it's so happy!

bunny music video
piano bunny rocks!

its so simple...

The Curse of the Asian Man

hee. the asian man is bitter, but not, apparently, without reason.

The Truth About Asian Women

gee, i sure hope someone finds this offensive.

gumption

"Cee forty-three! Ayche sixty-six! En twelve, oh twelve! Ess two - Hike!"
The characteristic crush of bodies following the snap brought a cheer to the crowd. It was the opening drive of the season opener and the Bison were doing it in style.
The quarterback, Tom Orwell, biochem major, had a bit of a wry wit and wasn't afraid to use it. He liked to name his plays in obscure fashion, drawing on his extensive background in biochemistry.
He slipped into the pocket, the backs were holding the defensive line to the outside. He caught the eye of 14, the left wide-receiver, flitting between two greens on the crossover. He notched his arm back and let it fly. Stewart snagged the ball out of the air and took off, his man still trying to catch up after getting lost in the congestion. The rest of the greens converged on the ball carrier, moths to a flame, and in one slick motion, he flipped it off to 74, Garret, who was streaking to the left flag in the opposite direction, executing a perfect 'oxytocin' pattern.

"Hey, did you hear? Yasser Arafat died this morning."
"No way! What does that mean for Middle Eastern peace?"
"It will probably open the door for more Israeli-Palestinian peace ta-"
"Hey, I'm trying to watch the game here."

unencumbered

how to say 'i love you' in a hopelessly romantic schoolyard crush way: 'as i gazed upon you from afar... blah blah blah... i fell truly, madly, deeply... blah blah blah... enamoured by your beauty... blah blah blah... like the petals of the lily/the pedals of my bike... cannot live without you... something something... dream about watching you sleep... blah blah blah blah blah i love you blah blah blah blah blah...'

how to say 'i love you' just like in the movies: 'you complete me.'

how to say 'i love you' so that she'll marry you: sparkle, sparkle.

how to say 'i love you' in a fraternal/sororal way: 'you're like a brother/sister to me, but not, like, actual brother/sister, but the way black people mean it. i just think it's more meaningful that way.'

how to say 'i love you' in a cousinly way: 'yor so purdy, hyuck.'

how to say 'i love you' in a platonic way: 'i love you (platonically).'

mild disenchantment

Alex: "Male lions are the only cats to have these and they turn darker as they grow older."
Ken: "What are... whiskers?"

National Guard Fighter Jet Strafes School

Click title.

i'm sure we've all thought about doing something destructive to a school at one point or another, usually coinciding with evaluation oppurtunities. accidental as this incident may be, it was a bit surprising. you have to be a supremely incompentent pilot to strafe a school, even at night. there are several telltale signs that you are no longer flying over a firing range and instead deep in suburbia. rows of light standards, for example. frankly i would've expected more from the largest, most well equipped military power in the world, if it weren't for the ample evidence of US fighter pilot incompetency in Afghanistan.

Also:
Man Tries to Convert Lions

...okay. that's FREAKIN' AWESOME!