This blog is a hodge podge of anything I happen to feel like writing or sharing. Enzo is short for Vincenzo, my birth name. Feel free to comment if you're so inclined. Or even if you're not leaning.
Showing posts with label old. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Thursday, 18 April 2013
Monday, 22 October 2012
Women follow me wherever I go
The following ad has been popping up regularly lately, seemingly following me around.
(Click to enlarge.)
Can someone please explain to me why these busty, attractive women:
a) want me instead of a young man?
b) have so much trouble meeting men that they feel they need to use a dating service? They certainly don't look shy!
c) if they're looking for a sugar daddy, isn't there an app for that?
I think the ad would be more believable if instead of saying "you", it said "Vinny".
Just the same, I'm afraid I have to decline. Sorry, ladies--this old man is taken.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
(Click to enlarge.)
Can someone please explain to me why these busty, attractive women:
a) want me instead of a young man?
b) have so much trouble meeting men that they feel they need to use a dating service? They certainly don't look shy!
c) if they're looking for a sugar daddy, isn't there an app for that?
I think the ad would be more believable if instead of saying "you", it said "Vinny".
Just the same, I'm afraid I have to decline. Sorry, ladies--this old man is taken.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Sunday, 15 August 2010
Kids just wanna have fun
It's official. I have entered my second childhood.
This past Friday, despite the humidex being 90+ F. (33 C.), I decided to go for a walk. Here in the Great White North, the mercury this summer has been so high and the humidity even higher, that any day where it only feels like 90 is a good day to go out. I haven't been getting out nearly as much as I like--it's been feeling as hot as 112 F., making it impossible to do anything more than walk across the street to buy groceries. And even then, you're all sweaty by the time you get back.
Anyway, I hit the road and was planning to do a route that takes only about 15 minutes, but the sun was intoxicating and I felt so good, I decided to extend my outing to the 30-35 minute route. This new route takes me toward, but still some distance away from my local Dairy Queen outlet.
This very thought entered my mind (the Dairy Queen), along with a chocolate sundae, one of my favourite treats and which I haven't enjoyed in several years, and although I was starting to get hot, or perhaps because of it, I decided to yet again, extend my walk. This meant that my total walk would be about 50-55 minutes--a very long walk in those conditions.
The fact I haven't made any mention of my second childhood in three subsequent paragraphs is probably testament to it. I've forgotten how to properly write. I'm almost there--I promise.
When I reached the intersection where the cool, delightful treats are located, I spotted a couple of young girls in front of the place, one of them inside a 6'6" paper mache or plastic ice cream cone, trying to drum up business. I have news for them. If the devil were visiting this town that day, he wouldn't need to be encouraged by a fake ice cream cone to get a cool refreshment. I crossed the street and went up to "the cone"--oh, I could tell she was a young girl by the shape and size of her legs. I peered into the slot that was the cone's "mouth" and said "I know you're an ice cream cone and all, but aren't you hot in there?"
Her response was "Awww...gimme a hug". So, like a little kid seeing a Disney character for the first time, I gave her a hug...to the apparent approval of the people on the patio based on the oohs and aahs, not to mention a passing motorist. I felt a bit silly and a bit childish, but it actually felt very good. I smiled at the barely visible face, bid her "Take care", and made my way to the shop.
One step into the place and I was hit by this beautiful rush of very cool air. Ironically, I hadn't noticed until that moment just how hot I was feeling. I seemed to sweat more rather than less as the queue moved along.
I glanced up at the menu and found the sundae prices. A "small", what I always have gotten at Dairy Queen, and always chocolate (I'm a creature of habit), was priced at $2.49...plus tax, of course. In this neck of the woods, that would be 13% or 32 cents, bringing the total not far from $3. It seemed excessive...until it arrived. Then, it seemed ridiculous. To put this in persepctive, a couple of weeks ago, I purchased two litres (almost half a gallon) of name-brand ice cream at the grocery store for $3.99. I could literally consume that sundae with one large bite assuming I wanted to risk the resultant brain freeze killing me.
I exited and almost without thinking, I wandered over toward Miss Ice-cream-cone and asked her if she'd like a little taste of my sundae. She said "Oh, sure!". I scooped up some chocolate syrup and some ice cream and carefully slipped it through her "mouth" and then toward her lips. She said, "Oh, that's so good! Thank-you very much! Give me a hug". And so, this "kid" put his arms around this giant cone for a second time and on this occasion, I hear a slight commotion over my shoulder. I let go of the giant treat while saying "You're very welcome" and "Bye", and glanced to my left to see an Asian man fidgeting with a camera and who had obviously just snapped a picture of the kooky, old man feeding ice cream to the ice cream cone. Those Asians will photograph anything!
As I embarked on my way home, glancing back, I saw that the man was asking to have his picture taken with Miss Cone. A few moments later and as I was 50 yards or so from the Dairy Queen, I heard shouting from behind me. I turned to see the two girls calling at me and waving good-bye. I'll tell you what--it's not at all bad being a kid...again.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
This past Friday, despite the humidex being 90+ F. (33 C.), I decided to go for a walk. Here in the Great White North, the mercury this summer has been so high and the humidity even higher, that any day where it only feels like 90 is a good day to go out. I haven't been getting out nearly as much as I like--it's been feeling as hot as 112 F., making it impossible to do anything more than walk across the street to buy groceries. And even then, you're all sweaty by the time you get back.
Anyway, I hit the road and was planning to do a route that takes only about 15 minutes, but the sun was intoxicating and I felt so good, I decided to extend my outing to the 30-35 minute route. This new route takes me toward, but still some distance away from my local Dairy Queen outlet.
This very thought entered my mind (the Dairy Queen), along with a chocolate sundae, one of my favourite treats and which I haven't enjoyed in several years, and although I was starting to get hot, or perhaps because of it, I decided to yet again, extend my walk. This meant that my total walk would be about 50-55 minutes--a very long walk in those conditions.
The fact I haven't made any mention of my second childhood in three subsequent paragraphs is probably testament to it. I've forgotten how to properly write. I'm almost there--I promise.
When I reached the intersection where the cool, delightful treats are located, I spotted a couple of young girls in front of the place, one of them inside a 6'6" paper mache or plastic ice cream cone, trying to drum up business. I have news for them. If the devil were visiting this town that day, he wouldn't need to be encouraged by a fake ice cream cone to get a cool refreshment. I crossed the street and went up to "the cone"--oh, I could tell she was a young girl by the shape and size of her legs. I peered into the slot that was the cone's "mouth" and said "I know you're an ice cream cone and all, but aren't you hot in there?"
Her response was "Awww...gimme a hug". So, like a little kid seeing a Disney character for the first time, I gave her a hug...to the apparent approval of the people on the patio based on the oohs and aahs, not to mention a passing motorist. I felt a bit silly and a bit childish, but it actually felt very good. I smiled at the barely visible face, bid her "Take care", and made my way to the shop.
One step into the place and I was hit by this beautiful rush of very cool air. Ironically, I hadn't noticed until that moment just how hot I was feeling. I seemed to sweat more rather than less as the queue moved along.
I glanced up at the menu and found the sundae prices. A "small", what I always have gotten at Dairy Queen, and always chocolate (I'm a creature of habit), was priced at $2.49...plus tax, of course. In this neck of the woods, that would be 13% or 32 cents, bringing the total not far from $3. It seemed excessive...until it arrived. Then, it seemed ridiculous. To put this in persepctive, a couple of weeks ago, I purchased two litres (almost half a gallon) of name-brand ice cream at the grocery store for $3.99. I could literally consume that sundae with one large bite assuming I wanted to risk the resultant brain freeze killing me.
I exited and almost without thinking, I wandered over toward Miss Ice-cream-cone and asked her if she'd like a little taste of my sundae. She said "Oh, sure!". I scooped up some chocolate syrup and some ice cream and carefully slipped it through her "mouth" and then toward her lips. She said, "Oh, that's so good! Thank-you very much! Give me a hug". And so, this "kid" put his arms around this giant cone for a second time and on this occasion, I hear a slight commotion over my shoulder. I let go of the giant treat while saying "You're very welcome" and "Bye", and glanced to my left to see an Asian man fidgeting with a camera and who had obviously just snapped a picture of the kooky, old man feeding ice cream to the ice cream cone. Those Asians will photograph anything!
As I embarked on my way home, glancing back, I saw that the man was asking to have his picture taken with Miss Cone. A few moments later and as I was 50 yards or so from the Dairy Queen, I heard shouting from behind me. I turned to see the two girls calling at me and waving good-bye. I'll tell you what--it's not at all bad being a kid...again.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Saturday, 24 April 2010
What's that smell?
No doubt you've noticed how technology is being used with increased frequency to produce visually interesting and perplexing TV commercials. One of my current favourites is an Old Spice commercial that really caught my attention the first time I saw it. Not only does it use tricks, but the premise is also very amusing. See for yourself...
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
I'm an old geezer
It's official. I am losing more hair--wait, it's not what you think. It was decades ago when I first started seeing large amounts of hair going down the shower drain every morning. It was painful to watch at first, but eventually, I came to accept its inevitability. This was especially difficult for a guy who once did not get a haircut for three and a half years, easily reaching behind my back and grasping my hair, which was half way down my back.
Now that my hair is very sparse, it seems that I am losing less of it to the drain, but something more sinister and distressing is occurring. Each morning, after showering, I stand in front of the basin and mirror, shaving, brushing, primping, spraying, etc. The other day, as I started to clean the area, I noticed that there were an assortment of hairs all about. That's not the distressing part.
To a third party, it might not have been given any notice at all, but as the owner of all those precious hairs, it meant a lot. What I witnessed were hairs of every possible origin. There were hairs from my head, perhaps a moustache hair, there may have been a nose hair or two, I saw at least one eye lash and I was fairly certain a thick and outlandishly long eye brow hair sat in the sink. It's anyone's guess whether a hair from an ear had joined the others just to make sure all sources were represented.
Maybe it shouldn't bother me so much. About six to eight months ago, I bought a battery-operated ear/nose hair trimmer and I've been very happy with it, relieving people of having to nervously look away after spotting the unsightly and embarrassing growth. Oh, I had tried my best to trim it with very small scissors, but it was always a job badly done and not without its dangers. On one occasion, a sudden sharp pain in my nose signalled I had cut something I shouldn't have. Half a tissue shoved up my nose became almost entirely soaked with blood before the stream subsided.
So, perhaps losing all this "extraneous" hair isn't such a bad thing--maybe soon, I won't have any hair left anywhere that I need to be concerned about removing...and risking my life in the process.
Now that my hair is very sparse, it seems that I am losing less of it to the drain, but something more sinister and distressing is occurring. Each morning, after showering, I stand in front of the basin and mirror, shaving, brushing, primping, spraying, etc. The other day, as I started to clean the area, I noticed that there were an assortment of hairs all about. That's not the distressing part.
To a third party, it might not have been given any notice at all, but as the owner of all those precious hairs, it meant a lot. What I witnessed were hairs of every possible origin. There were hairs from my head, perhaps a moustache hair, there may have been a nose hair or two, I saw at least one eye lash and I was fairly certain a thick and outlandishly long eye brow hair sat in the sink. It's anyone's guess whether a hair from an ear had joined the others just to make sure all sources were represented.
Maybe it shouldn't bother me so much. About six to eight months ago, I bought a battery-operated ear/nose hair trimmer and I've been very happy with it, relieving people of having to nervously look away after spotting the unsightly and embarrassing growth. Oh, I had tried my best to trim it with very small scissors, but it was always a job badly done and not without its dangers. On one occasion, a sudden sharp pain in my nose signalled I had cut something I shouldn't have. Half a tissue shoved up my nose became almost entirely soaked with blood before the stream subsided.
So, perhaps losing all this "extraneous" hair isn't such a bad thing--maybe soon, I won't have any hair left anywhere that I need to be concerned about removing...and risking my life in the process.
Sunday, 19 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
Is it wrong to walk around your own home naked?
Only if it's an old age home. (shudder)
Only if it's an old age home. (shudder)
Saturday, 13 September 2008
Lyin' Eyes
I knew the girl featured in my Lyin' Eyes music video reminded me of someone and now I know who. A blast from the past that went into oblivion. A girl who had touched a soft spot in my heart. And most ironically, she, like the girl in the video, married a man very much her senior. Pia Zadora married in the lyrics of the Eagles tune "a rich old man" of 55 when she was just the tender age of 23. You be the judge. Do they look alike?
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