I missed most of the show, tonight. Turned it on just in time to see this:
Q: What is the fewest amount of letters required to make a word in the English language.
Guy said he wasn't sure and opted to use his classmate's answer. Interesting, since the answer lies within the question, itself.
Thursday, 24 July 2008
Paying the Bills
As a cable customer, Rogers Cable, owner of the "Dome Formerly Known as Skydome" and host of baseball's American League Blue Jays, wishes to offer me a chance to win a pair of tickets to "see the NFL's Buffalo Bills lock horns with the Pittsburgh Steelers" in a pre-season contest. The scheme is part of a multi-year deal bringing NFL teams here to show Canadians what real football is like (not Canadian football with its silly three-downs rule). I imagine its real purpose is to see if Toronto would support an NFL team of our own...and, of course, make oodles of money for Rogers.
Lord knows Ted Rogers needs money desperately. His company is the largest cable operator in Canada. He runs TV networks, wireless communication services, phone services internet service and the list goes on. For years, now, he's been begging me through endless mailings, flyers and ads to buy more services from him. Oh, and did I mention he owns the Blue Jays along with their fancy digs?--a facility he paid approximately $21 million for in 2004. Now, I don't begrudge a man trying to eke out a living in these rough times of revenue sharing that virtually ensures that no billionaire owner ever assumes any risk of losing money, but what about the poor Toronto taxpayers who were fleeced out of their hard-earned tax money to pay for the dome in the first place?
Teddy paid less than five cents on the dollar for the magnificent house that Art built and his first order of business was to rename the structure to "Rogers Centre". Shrewd thinking. Nobody could ever accuse him of practically stealing the Skydome because you see it's the Rogers Centre. Under then Toronto Mayor Art Eggleton's watchful eye, the retractable roof Skydome was constructed at a cost of a whopping $487 million--almost half a billion dollars! You could invade a small country for a price tag like that, couldn't you? Hell, we could have annexed Alaska when the Americans weren't looking. Who would notice?
Getting back to Roger's offer...he wants me to see the Bills and the Steelers live. I'm not sure why, though. You see, even if I watch them on the tube, there's a good chance that I would be watching them on his TV network. Of course! He wants me to buy his beer!
Note: Rogers bought Skydome from Chicago-based investors group Sportsco International who had purchased it out of bankruptcy in 1999 for about $92 million. But this doesn't make nearly as interesting a story.
Lord knows Ted Rogers needs money desperately. His company is the largest cable operator in Canada. He runs TV networks, wireless communication services, phone services internet service and the list goes on. For years, now, he's been begging me through endless mailings, flyers and ads to buy more services from him. Oh, and did I mention he owns the Blue Jays along with their fancy digs?--a facility he paid approximately $21 million for in 2004. Now, I don't begrudge a man trying to eke out a living in these rough times of revenue sharing that virtually ensures that no billionaire owner ever assumes any risk of losing money, but what about the poor Toronto taxpayers who were fleeced out of their hard-earned tax money to pay for the dome in the first place?
Teddy paid less than five cents on the dollar for the magnificent house that Art built and his first order of business was to rename the structure to "Rogers Centre". Shrewd thinking. Nobody could ever accuse him of practically stealing the Skydome because you see it's the Rogers Centre. Under then Toronto Mayor Art Eggleton's watchful eye, the retractable roof Skydome was constructed at a cost of a whopping $487 million--almost half a billion dollars! You could invade a small country for a price tag like that, couldn't you? Hell, we could have annexed Alaska when the Americans weren't looking. Who would notice?
Getting back to Roger's offer...he wants me to see the Bills and the Steelers live. I'm not sure why, though. You see, even if I watch them on the tube, there's a good chance that I would be watching them on his TV network.
Note: Rogers bought Skydome from Chicago-based investors group Sportsco International who had purchased it out of bankruptcy in 1999 for about $92 million. But this doesn't make nearly as interesting a story.
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
This just in...
Perhaps you've heard: President Bush thinks that "Wall Street got drunk."
After asking guests at a private fund-raiser to turn their cameras off (clearly, at least one person didn't), Bush continued: "It got drunk, and now it's got a hangover. The question is: How long will it sober up and not try to do all these fancy financial instruments?"
With brilliant economic acumen like that controlling the American purse strings, it's a miracle the country hasn't completely imploded. I hope for everyone's sake it doesn't sink much further before the next inauguration takes place and a more advanced form of primate takes office.
After asking guests at a private fund-raiser to turn their cameras off (clearly, at least one person didn't), Bush continued: "It got drunk, and now it's got a hangover. The question is: How long will it sober up and not try to do all these fancy financial instruments?"
With brilliant economic acumen like that controlling the American purse strings, it's a miracle the country hasn't completely imploded. I hope for everyone's sake it doesn't sink much further before the next inauguration takes place and a more advanced form of primate takes office.
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
Driving along in my automibile...
I kept forgetting to write about this. About a week and a half ago, I decided to drive to Mohawk Raceway one evening, about 25 miles from my hometown of Brampton, Ontario, just outside Toronto. I gave myself 30 minutes to get there, which should have been sufficient. As I got on Highway 401, the traffic was bumper to bumper, barely moving. It was a warm and pleasant evening and so I rolled down the windows, turned off the air conditioning and enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine. After fifteen minutes of this, and having covered only a few miles, the pleasantness was quickly fading. It must be some serious accident, I thought to myself.
The answer came fifteen minutes and a few more long miles down the six lane highway. It was, indeed, a substantial accident. A transport truck had flipped over on its side and was blocking all but one lane. I hoped that no one was seriously hurt. My prayers go out to anyone who was involved. I didn't examine the scene very closely, so I couldn't say how many vehicles and or how badly they may have been damaged. The reason being that I just wanted to get on my way. What really irritated me about the whole thing is that this terrible accident caused me and literally thousands of other drivers great inconvenience--never mind the wasted gas, even though it occurred ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY!
You want to hear a much sadder story? Let me tell you about the poor folks on the other side as I was speeding away from the scene. And I am not exaggerating. I estimate that about 25-50% of those travellers had come out of their vehicles resigned to the fact that they weren't moving even an inch anytime soon. They were having parties, throwing frisbees, chatting, walking, kids were playing tag, etc. It resembled a tail gate party more than it did one of the busiest highways in North America. This continued for pretty much the rest of the way to my destination. Maybe it wasn't sadder for them after all.
I had missed the first (horse) race, but was happy I wasn't going the other way. The evening was uneventful except for when I asked the girl serving me a cappuccino if anyone had ever told her she looks a lot like Ellen Degeneres. She was wearing a baseball cap and had her head down digging out my change, but I could see she had a large grin on her face. She said "Yes, but..." and the rest I couldn't make out as she mumbled it. And from my left, the female of a couple of cops agreed with me saying "Yes, she sure does, doesn't she?"
About three hours later, I hop in my car--which is hard to do since I don't drive a convertible, and hit the highway. Yeah, you guessed it. Sort of. The accident had been cleared, but for some unGodly reason, the stretch continued to be routed through a single lane. There appeared to be some construction going on, but I saw nothing to warrant using only one lane. It was stop and go, but only for a few miles, so again comparatively speaking, I felt lucky.
To all you rubber neckers: Keep your fricken eyes on the road ahead of you! And to everyone: Always carry a frisbee in the trunk.
The answer came fifteen minutes and a few more long miles down the six lane highway. It was, indeed, a substantial accident. A transport truck had flipped over on its side and was blocking all but one lane. I hoped that no one was seriously hurt. My prayers go out to anyone who was involved. I didn't examine the scene very closely, so I couldn't say how many vehicles and or how badly they may have been damaged. The reason being that I just wanted to get on my way. What really irritated me about the whole thing is that this terrible accident caused me and literally thousands of other drivers great inconvenience--never mind the wasted gas, even though it occurred ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY!
You want to hear a much sadder story? Let me tell you about the poor folks on the other side as I was speeding away from the scene. And I am not exaggerating. I estimate that about 25-50% of those travellers had come out of their vehicles resigned to the fact that they weren't moving even an inch anytime soon. They were having parties, throwing frisbees, chatting, walking, kids were playing tag, etc. It resembled a tail gate party more than it did one of the busiest highways in North America. This continued for pretty much the rest of the way to my destination. Maybe it wasn't sadder for them after all.
I had missed the first (horse) race, but was happy I wasn't going the other way. The evening was uneventful except for when I asked the girl serving me a cappuccino if anyone had ever told her she looks a lot like Ellen Degeneres. She was wearing a baseball cap and had her head down digging out my change, but I could see she had a large grin on her face. She said "Yes, but..." and the rest I couldn't make out as she mumbled it. And from my left, the female of a couple of cops agreed with me saying "Yes, she sure does, doesn't she?"
About three hours later, I hop in my car--which is hard to do since I don't drive a convertible, and hit the highway. Yeah, you guessed it. Sort of. The accident had been cleared, but for some unGodly reason, the stretch continued to be routed through a single lane. There appeared to be some construction going on, but I saw nothing to warrant using only one lane. It was stop and go, but only for a few miles, so again comparatively speaking, I felt lucky.
To all you rubber neckers: Keep your fricken eyes on the road ahead of you! And to everyone: Always carry a frisbee in the trunk.
Monday, 21 July 2008
McCartney doesn't disappoint
Sunday night, Sir Paul McCartney invaded The Plains of Abraham just outside Quebec City 250 years after The British conquered New France. Despite protests in the media and expectations of trouble at the concert, it went without a hitch. Sixty-six year old McCartney wowed the 200,000 fans for two and a half hours, performing songs from his career as a soloist, with Wings, and The Beatles. It was the only North American stop of his tour.
McCartney's former wife, Heather Mills, who sued the ex-Beatle for some $50 million dollars after only two years of marriage was spotted near the stage sporting a solid gold prosthetic leg furiously pressing the keys of a calculator.
McCartney's former wife, Heather Mills, who sued the ex-Beatle for some $50 million dollars after only two years of marriage was spotted near the stage sporting a solid gold prosthetic leg furiously pressing the keys of a calculator.
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