No, it's not what you think. I just realized I'm late with the rest of this post from a couple of days ago.
My idea is this: Rather than place an ankle bracelet that allows police to track sexual predators on parole, etc., why not equip children with a simple device that signals them when a known paedophile is in the vicinity? Also or alternatively, the same signal can be received by a parent or anyone carrying a cell phone. The man's privacy is upheld since only his wherabouts is indicated and children are kept safe. It's a win/win situation. Carriers, politicians and police services, are you listening?
Monday 9 February 2009
Q & A's from around the web
Why are smokers not affected by secondhand smoke?
If someone farts while you're eating feces, it doesn't seem to bother you.
If someone farts while you're eating feces, it doesn't seem to bother you.
Sunday 8 February 2009
Q & A's from around the web
My wife broke her leg so she can't bring me beer for a while. Should I divorce her?
Serious answers only.
Surely you can rig up a chair on wheels so she can do her duty. What kind of man wouldn't go a little out of his way to add a couple wheels to her kitchen stool so she can bring you whatever you need?
Serious answers only.
Surely you can rig up a chair on wheels so she can do her duty. What kind of man wouldn't go a little out of his way to add a couple wheels to her kitchen stool so she can bring you whatever you need?
Saturday 7 February 2009
Close Encounters of the unwanted kind
How come there's a national "Do not call" list designed to keep annoying telephone calls from disturbing the peace and sanctity of our personal space, and spam blockers designed to allow us to keep billions of unwanted e-mails from destroying our time and sanity, but there's nothing to stem the tide of unsolicited junk mail cluttering up our cherished bills, parking tickets and notices of jury duty?
Why is it legal for someone to send me as much crap as they can afford to send and I am obligated under threat of being taken away by armed agents of the government, to accept it all? Isn't it about time that in the name of the environment, not to mention in the name of Vinny, that a national "Do not send" list is established?
Virtually every business day of the year, I receive about three pieces of junk mail. I never spend more than the time it takes to pick it up and deliver it to my recycling bag, reading any of it. Yes, it's good that it is recycled (I hope you all do, too), but there is a large cost involved in the life cycle of printed matter.
And while I'm coming up with ideas for this wish list, can someone please come up with a "Do not encounter" list for cell phones? You know, you populate your cellphone with the names--phone numbers, I guess, of people you'd least like to run into, say, your ex-wife who took you to the cleaners and would frisk you for more in a chance encounter, the guy you borrowed $50 from a month ago that you were supposed to pay back three weeks ago, Uncle Leo, etc., and through the magic of GPS, keeps them at bay. Perhaps for a small additional monthly fee, the phone will direct you to the nearest and best hiding place when someone from your DNE list is dangerously near.
A light bulb just went off--or is it "went on"? Funny that we say an alarm went off when it really went on. Anyway, on this same theme...ya know what? This post is long enough. If your attention span is as short as mine, you stopped reading after the first paragraph. I'll describe my brilliant idea in another post, tomorrow. Be sure to stop by. I'll be serving free coffee and Danish.
Why is it legal for someone to send me as much crap as they can afford to send and I am obligated under threat of being taken away by armed agents of the government, to accept it all? Isn't it about time that in the name of the environment, not to mention in the name of Vinny, that a national "Do not send" list is established?
Virtually every business day of the year, I receive about three pieces of junk mail. I never spend more than the time it takes to pick it up and deliver it to my recycling bag, reading any of it. Yes, it's good that it is recycled (I hope you all do, too), but there is a large cost involved in the life cycle of printed matter.
And while I'm coming up with ideas for this wish list, can someone please come up with a "Do not encounter" list for cell phones? You know, you populate your cellphone with the names--phone numbers, I guess, of people you'd least like to run into, say, your ex-wife who took you to the cleaners and would frisk you for more in a chance encounter, the guy you borrowed $50 from a month ago that you were supposed to pay back three weeks ago, Uncle Leo, etc., and through the magic of GPS, keeps them at bay. Perhaps for a small additional monthly fee, the phone will direct you to the nearest and best hiding place when someone from your DNE list is dangerously near.
A light bulb just went off--or is it "went on"? Funny that we say an alarm went off when it really went on. Anyway, on this same theme...ya know what? This post is long enough. If your attention span is as short as mine, you stopped reading after the first paragraph. I'll describe my brilliant idea in another post, tomorrow. Be sure to stop by. I'll be serving free coffee and Danish.
Friday 6 February 2009
Classic cars from my childhood
Back in the late 60's, my older brother must have been quite a car enthusiast--probably "nut" is a more accurate adjective...even if it is a noun. He had recently purchased this beauty... (you can read about it here)
...a 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396, when he shortly thereafter embarked on an ambitious plan to build a '57 Chevy from the ground up, no less.
I remember him working on that car in the garage, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend, at all hours, often working in the dark by the light of one of those lamps-on-a-cord-with-a-hook thingees. I can recall the jubilation when the engine first turned over. There would have been high fives all around except I'm almost positive no one had ever done a high five until a decade or two later. Even after that first milestone, there were setbacks. The car would randomly stall, sending my bro back to the drawing board.
The car wasn't one of my favourite colours--plain white, but millions of people the world over consider the '57 Chevy one of the most stylish vehicles ever produced.
Another thing I remember is how loud that street machine was. I don't recall what size engine was in it or what kind of exhaust system/mufflers/resonators it had, but I can tell you unequivocally that it would not be ignored. A slight touch of the gas pedal, idling or not, and heads would turn from a block away. What I do know is that the Chevelle's 396 CID was bigger than whatever was in the Chev.
You may not believe what I am about to share, but I have heard this from my brother on more than one occasion. The '57 was faster off the line than the muscle car Chevelle! The only reason I can think of why this was so, is that the gear ratio must have favoured lower speeds in the '57.
It seems that "the white car" (how my 13 year old brain thought of it) wasn't with us very long. One day while bro was out cruisin' on Yonge Street, he came to a red light alongside a guy on a noisy bike. They glanced at each other and they rev'ed their respective machines. It seems silly to even think that a street-legal car could compete with even a moderately quick motorcycle, but...
The light turned green, the engines screamed, the tires screeched and like greased lightning they were off. In what must have seemed like a split second, driver and rider came to an even faster stop at the next light, the car slightly before the bike. The rider was blown away. He offered to buy the car from my brother on the spot and soon thereafter, I never saw "the white car" again.
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
...a 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396, when he shortly thereafter embarked on an ambitious plan to build a '57 Chevy from the ground up, no less.
I remember him working on that car in the garage, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend, at all hours, often working in the dark by the light of one of those lamps-on-a-cord-with-a-hook thingees. I can recall the jubilation when the engine first turned over. There would have been high fives all around except I'm almost positive no one had ever done a high five until a decade or two later. Even after that first milestone, there were setbacks. The car would randomly stall, sending my bro back to the drawing board.
The car wasn't one of my favourite colours--plain white, but millions of people the world over consider the '57 Chevy one of the most stylish vehicles ever produced.
Another thing I remember is how loud that street machine was. I don't recall what size engine was in it or what kind of exhaust system/mufflers/resonators it had, but I can tell you unequivocally that it would not be ignored. A slight touch of the gas pedal, idling or not, and heads would turn from a block away. What I do know is that the Chevelle's 396 CID was bigger than whatever was in the Chev.
You may not believe what I am about to share, but I have heard this from my brother on more than one occasion. The '57 was faster off the line than the muscle car Chevelle! The only reason I can think of why this was so, is that the gear ratio must have favoured lower speeds in the '57.
It seems that "the white car" (how my 13 year old brain thought of it) wasn't with us very long. One day while bro was out cruisin' on Yonge Street, he came to a red light alongside a guy on a noisy bike. They glanced at each other and they rev'ed their respective machines. It seems silly to even think that a street-legal car could compete with even a moderately quick motorcycle, but...
The light turned green, the engines screamed, the tires screeched and like greased lightning they were off. In what must have seemed like a split second, driver and rider came to an even faster stop at the next light, the car slightly before the bike. The rider was blown away. He offered to buy the car from my brother on the spot and soon thereafter, I never saw "the white car" again.
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
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