Watch out for grab and run artists

A seagull in Marinette , Wisconson has developed the habit of stealing Doritos from a neighbourhood convenience store. The seagull waits until the Manager isn't looking, and then walks into the store and grabs a snack-size bag of cheese Doritos. Once outside, the bag gets ripped open and shared by other birds.

The seagull's shoplifting started weeks earlier when he first swooped into the store in and helped himself to a bag of Doritos. Since then, he's become a regular. He always takes the same type of chips.

The Manager thinks it's great because people are coming to watch the feathered thief make the daily grab and run, and it's been good for business, especially since customers have begun paying for the seagull's stolen bags of Doritos because they think it's so funny. However, the Manager did say, "This is Wisconsin, and if that seagull starts to grab a 6-pack of beer to go along with the Doritos, I may have to put a stop to it."

Q & A's from around the web

When/how did you know that your marriage/relationship was over?

When I woke up after falling asleep watching TV, to find two big, burly guys carrying me, still in my chair, to the curb on garbage day. I'm kidding. It wasn't garbage day.

The results are in

I entered the CAA (Canadian Auto Club) contest for the greenest driver with this entry:

Hi. I’m Vinny’s car. Yeah, that’s me in the photo--the one who’s red with anger. Back in the good, old days, Vinny and I were pretty racy, going between traffic lights like jack rabbits. Boy, that was fun. Now, he's so boring, driving all sensible-like. Says it saves gas and wear and tear on the brakes. Where’s the fun in that?

He used to take me out a lot more, too. Now, he works from home and we live across the street from a mall and I have to practically beg him to go anywhere. Even going out for drinks (of oil) has gone from every 3 months or so, to only twice a year, even though it’s less than 4,000 kilometres in between.

Vinny’s been very cold toward me lately, considering he hardly ever turns on my air conditioner. Last week, I replaced my droopy tires with nice, firm, new ones and he didn’t even notice! Sure, he’s getting on in years, but my odometer is barely over 100,000 Kms. One of these days, Vinny will come outside and he might just see a “For Sale” sign on this gal.

It seems it wasn't good enough for even an honourable mention. The first place prize of an all-expense paid eco-trip for two to Costa Rica was awarded to (surprise, surprise) a couple who have been CAA members for 28 years. Okaaaaaay. I'm just kidding--I'm not the least bit upset. I wish the lucky winners a great trip and all the best.

Caught in a web

I spotted what appeared to be a dead housefly on the floor beside my
dresser. As I bent down to have a look, I saw that it was caught in a
web with lines so thin, they were virtually invisible. Nearby, a very
tiny spider sat patiently. The fly struggled to free itself, but it was
in vain. After a few moments, the spider moved in. The fly was about
100 times the size of the spider. Nonetheless, he grappled with the
fly for a while and suddenly the fly was still.

Surprisingly, that minuscule arachnid managed to drag the fly away
behind the dresser. I stood up and tried to think what I should do. My
first inclination would be to move the dresser, and sweep up the web,
fly and spider, not necessarily in that order, and dump the mess in
the garbage can. That was about a week ago. In the meantime, I looked
in on my house guests several times by moving the dresser slightly,
and though it is too dark to see spider or web, the fly remains.

I feel powerless to make a difference even to a dead fly, a
microscopic spider and the web and dust that is collecting back there.
I don't want to kill the spider or remove his source of food, even
though I cannot tell if he is even still there. The crazy thing is
that this inconvenience to me, a clean freak, weighs on me. For another
reason. It seems this spider has more influence in the universe than
I do. After all, he took down a monster 100 times his size and I can't
seem to take down a speck which is him that is one billionth the size
of me.

A thought suddenly strikes me: How much "humanitarian" currency am I earning for this?
How much did I earn when I made a sizable donation to the Southeast
Asia Tsunami relief fund when it was I who was in need of funds? How
much did I earn when I gave to The hospital For Sick Children in
Toronto when it was I who was in need of care? How much did I earn
when I walked 30 miles for The United Way charity while I now walk alone? Like my
existence in this world, the answers don't make a lick of difference.
The truth is, whatever good I have done, and admittedly, it wasn't
enough, I would do it and more, again, regardless of the outcomes. I
just reserve the right to bitch about it. For you see, it is I who is caught in a web.

Memories of Sam

We had always thought our cat Sam to be stupid. I'm not sure how he rated compared to other felines since we never had another cat and have never known any others intimately. He just seemed pretty dumb. However, he did have flashes of brilliance. Many years ago, we found that if we hung a rubber band over a (toggle type) light switch, he would jump up and pull it down, and in the process, the light turned off. It was impressive to our guests when we demonstrated this trick as I shouted "Turn off the light, Sam", especially if they didn't notice the rubber band I had placed there ahead of time.

Another thing he did, was close the cupboard door by pushing it with his head after I had poured his food and then put the food bag back in the cupboard. He would only do this if I poured the food into his dish on the counter. If I tried the operation on the floor, a tank couldn't keep him from getting at the food in the dish. He just started doing it all by himself. Occasionally, he didn't do it but if I moved the cupboard door, he'd get the idea and push it closed with his head.

Not long before I had to put him down for health reasons (his not mine), I taught him something else. He used to try and get at his food dish so fast as I was placing it on the floor that sometimes he caused me to spill water onto the floor. To avoid this, I would push down on his back, forcing him to lay down about 18 inches from his "dining area" and I shouted "Stay!". He would usually stay there until I placed the dish down and gave him the order and motioned to "Go!". It sounds sick and cruel, but sometimes, just for fun, I made him stay there for 20 seconds or longer, repeating "Stay!" whenever he started to make a move for the dish. :)

In the end, I got much too used to him. He was such a long-time and close friend that it was like he was human. Once, while on the computer (me, not him), there came a noise from another room. He was laying behind me on the bed where he usually was when I was at the keyboard. I turned to look at him and without thinking, I said "Go and see what that noise is".

More evidence of my lunacy: I put water on the burner and came back to my PC while it was heating up. I suddenly realized that I had left it too long and as I made a dash for the kitchen, I noticed him laying in the hall. As I stepped over him, I angrily said "Why didn't you remind me I had water on the burner?".

RIP, Sam.