https://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=283546625111582
Here's a video of one of the many peacocks that live in the wild surrounding my neighborhood. There are several - note the birds on verandas, fences, etc in this video, if you can keep your eyes of his beautiful plumage.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Sunday, April 07, 2013
The Great Gig in the Sky
As far as I remember before, our link to a commonality of self, inner belief, life. One song. One record. The depth, the rumors, the tabloids, Rolling Stone, other famous bands, fans, groupies, Time.
We were there. We lived it. Live, in person. And nothing in this world can take that away from us, not even the Wizard of Oz. The prism, so much like the triangular space ships now focusing on Earth. To this day we believe Pink Floyd are aliens, surely they must be! The music is too fantastic, we can't hear all at once. It comes in pieces, a million times, and it's only our brains that accept the speed in which we accept the reality of it all, the perfection of perfect.
We had two tickets to concert, but I could not go. Panic surrounded me because the triangular ships had come the week before. It would take months before I could step outside beneath the prism sky.
Thankfully, buddy Steven had chopped off the tip of his thumb at a lumber yard accident 3 months earlier, which resulted with a hefty $8,000 sorry pay cheque from Worker's Compensation, which was used for a limo hire and all the booze they could drink. A fun time was had by all, so I heard.
I eventually returned to work, reducing my Xanax intake to caffeine and faded memories of fear. One song remains, however, the one I listen to whether I want to or not, the album still plays between breaths and sudden disruption of sleep and the unusual objects in the sky. They are warning me........
Light speed has since passed.
To better understand, I have provided a link to the entire Dark Side of the Moon album, so you can make up your own minds. And maybe one day, you'll be privileged & awakened to see them, too.
We were there. We lived it. Live, in person. And nothing in this world can take that away from us, not even the Wizard of Oz. The prism, so much like the triangular space ships now focusing on Earth. To this day we believe Pink Floyd are aliens, surely they must be! The music is too fantastic, we can't hear all at once. It comes in pieces, a million times, and it's only our brains that accept the speed in which we accept the reality of it all, the perfection of perfect.
We had two tickets to concert, but I could not go. Panic surrounded me because the triangular ships had come the week before. It would take months before I could step outside beneath the prism sky.
Thankfully, buddy Steven had chopped off the tip of his thumb at a lumber yard accident 3 months earlier, which resulted with a hefty $8,000 sorry pay cheque from Worker's Compensation, which was used for a limo hire and all the booze they could drink. A fun time was had by all, so I heard.
I eventually returned to work, reducing my Xanax intake to caffeine and faded memories of fear. One song remains, however, the one I listen to whether I want to or not, the album still plays between breaths and sudden disruption of sleep and the unusual objects in the sky. They are warning me........
To better understand, I have provided a link to the entire Dark Side of the Moon album, so you can make up your own minds. And maybe one day, you'll be privileged & awakened to see them, too.
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Dig Deep Clams - a Chip Oddity
I submitted a few taste sensations for Lay's Potato Chips contest - invent a new flavor, no problem! After all, it was Canadians who created Ketchup and Dill flavored chips ! It's true, look it up.
Easy-peasy ... honestly, Sriracha! That stuff is so predominant here in Canada, it's everywhere, a frickin' condiment - you have to ask for it to be left OFF the dish! But, what's with Chicken & Waffles - it's a confusion of breakfast and dinner - I just don't get it. Does explain the obesity problem though.
Here's what we Canuckle-heads yearn to titillate our mouth buds with:
ALL SERVED WITH POUTINE and a 1-800 number to ban seal hunting.
*plagiarism starts*
Pronounced "gooey-duck", the name comes from the Nisqually Indian "gwe-duk" meaning "dig-deep"
Geoduck clams are found throughout coastal British Columbia in each of the management areas from the intertidal zone to depths of at least 110 metres. The clams begin to burrow into the substrate within 40 to 50 days of birth, and they can bury to a depth of 60 cm in two years. Few predators can reach them once they are successful in achieving this depth. A geoduck grows rapidly for the first 10 to 15 years. By that time, it has grown so large that its shell cannot close around it. Recruitment to the fishery begins at age four and by age 12, geoducks are fully vulnerable to harvest. They are harvested individually by divers using a directed water jet called a "stinger" which loosens the substrate around the clams and allows them to be lifted out. Commercial geoduck harvesters can tell where the clams are buried by their "shows" (the visible exposed tip of a siphon or dimple left in the sand from a retracted siphon), and divers are expert "show readers" whether by sight when the weather is good or by feel in zero visibility conditions.
*plagiarism ends*
Open until April 15, create new flavors (up to three ingredients) - and four finalists will be selected to win $5,000.00, and if your flavor is the new hit wonder, you'll receive $50k and 1% of future sales.
America just completed their first phase of finalists, with Cheesy Garlic Bread, Chicken and Waffles, and Sriracha being the top winners.
Easy-peasy ... honestly, Sriracha! That stuff is so predominant here in Canada, it's everywhere, a frickin' condiment - you have to ask for it to be left OFF the dish! But, what's with Chicken & Waffles - it's a confusion of breakfast and dinner - I just don't get it. Does explain the obesity problem though.
Here's what we Canuckle-heads yearn to titillate our mouth buds with:
Cranberries and Horseradish
Honeycomb and Beef Jerky
Truffle and Parmesan cheese
Wasabi & ginger root
ALL SERVED WITH POUTINE and a 1-800 number to ban seal hunting.
....and my favorite: Geoduck & Garlic, aka Dig Deep Clams
*plagiarism starts*
Pronounced "gooey-duck", the name comes from the Nisqually Indian "gwe-duk" meaning "dig-deep"
Geoduck clams are found throughout coastal British Columbia in each of the management areas from the intertidal zone to depths of at least 110 metres. The clams begin to burrow into the substrate within 40 to 50 days of birth, and they can bury to a depth of 60 cm in two years. Few predators can reach them once they are successful in achieving this depth. A geoduck grows rapidly for the first 10 to 15 years. By that time, it has grown so large that its shell cannot close around it. Recruitment to the fishery begins at age four and by age 12, geoducks are fully vulnerable to harvest. They are harvested individually by divers using a directed water jet called a "stinger" which loosens the substrate around the clams and allows them to be lifted out. Commercial geoduck harvesters can tell where the clams are buried by their "shows" (the visible exposed tip of a siphon or dimple left in the sand from a retracted siphon), and divers are expert "show readers" whether by sight when the weather is good or by feel in zero visibility conditions.
*plagiarism ends*
Sunday, March 24, 2013
The Last Peacock
This is so strange, living in Canada, one would assume only Canadian Geese.
However, simply put, Western Canada is very mild and we rarely receive snow. Unlike, all those northern "well known" states that seem to be shut down by a winter's breath. In British Columbia, we ski, snowboard, swim, sunbathe, dance and be merry all year long. Just as long as we have an umbrella in our hippie backpack that has a slight aroma of skunk. *wink wink*
But with warmer climates, comes development, and we are being developed over and over again. Not from the inside out, but from the outside in. What remains are little pockets of "last hold outs" a few acres here and there, farms, old growth trees that can no longer be protected by legislature, yet are standing tall because of a few folks who smell like skunk.
So it remains. A peacock farm, and a cockle of peas, feathers and all, abandoning their habitat to cat food, and hummingbird troughs, and artisan rock walls, stoops and decks and RV shadows, neighborhoods of similarly built houses, row upon row, street upon street, less trees upon lesser.
Here is a video clipping of one of the males, feathers fully opened.
https://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=283546625111582
However, simply put, Western Canada is very mild and we rarely receive snow. Unlike, all those northern "well known" states that seem to be shut down by a winter's breath. In British Columbia, we ski, snowboard, swim, sunbathe, dance and be merry all year long. Just as long as we have an umbrella in our hippie backpack that has a slight aroma of skunk. *wink wink*
But with warmer climates, comes development, and we are being developed over and over again. Not from the inside out, but from the outside in. What remains are little pockets of "last hold outs" a few acres here and there, farms, old growth trees that can no longer be protected by legislature, yet are standing tall because of a few folks who smell like skunk.
So it remains. A peacock farm, and a cockle of peas, feathers and all, abandoning their habitat to cat food, and hummingbird troughs, and artisan rock walls, stoops and decks and RV shadows, neighborhoods of similarly built houses, row upon row, street upon street, less trees upon lesser.
Here is a video clipping of one of the males, feathers fully opened.
https://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=283546625111582
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Freaks and Geeks...........
I wouldn't have it any other way. So proud of you son. Despite the hairdo. It's cool to be smart.
Colonel Mustard with a Lead Pipe in the Ball Room.... or a bunch of nails!
We have had problems with our plumbing since last summer.
RULES:
Upstairs, do not flush, do not shower, do not brush your teeth. Go to second floor. Poop there, but you can pee upstairs. Do not use mom and dad's shower or toilet, sink OK. Kid's toilet, shower and toilet good, no sink.
Kitchen sink bubbles up shit. Dining room floods from the hole now forming in the ceiling. Stained yellow. Plumbers, all expert, all stupid. Fucking crooks. Just need flushing. $400.00
A few abandon the estimate. Some do not return phone calls.
2 months later, do not poop upstairs, no kitchen. One shower. Four people. Kill. Paper plates, towels soaked and destroyed. Elbow joints, tee joints, flanges, silicon, Liquid sauce, grains, snakes, and trains.
Ceiling removal. Fucking popcorn fucking ceiling. No! $389. $275. This and that. Cameras. $800.00
Nails! Just like the ones that flatten our tires. Nails! Instead of strapping the plumbing pipes into place, they were screwed in, or nailed into place. Lazy construction. Poor workmanship. Uncaring. Bullshit we now have to contend with. Live with.
Toilet paper snowballs onto the nails, like hooks, building and building a pyramid of clog. Shit. Backed up sinks, toilets. Bank accounts. Buyer Beware!
Saturday, March 16, 2013
How to Survive Bus Transit in Surrey, B.C.
When the door opens there's an instant smell of misery.
Foreboding eyes warn quickly, then release to the mist forming skin on the windows.
You cannot see from the outside world, how we are packed in an orderly fashion, row upon row: some sitting - some standing with arms reaching to the sky as if pleading to God, send us 5 more commandments.
But they are merely holding on for dear life, because the driver on shift today hates his job and hates the scum of the earth he has to contend with. He hates the smell of whiskey and being short changed and having to make schedule deadlines .... and yellow lights. So he brakes hard, dead stop, as two passengers drop to the ground, knees buckling against baby strollers and wheelchairs amassing flags of Green Peace and Save Tibet.
He is haggard, the interior even worse. It reminds him of years of abuse, battered fist fights, blood and guts, disorderly conduct, puke and piss. And that was only half of the clients I traveled with in the 20 minute long ride to Newton Exchange, where I now have to to transfer to the most notorious route of all, Surrey Central #321.
It is not unusual to have strangers fall asleep on your shoulder, nor converse with you and you and the other you, or have empty beer cans roll between your feet, rattling from seat to seat - Surrey pre-trial clients boasting how they only received 6 months probation and no jail time, custody battles, hard luck stories all accentuated with being wrongly accused and cheap perfume.
The majority clearly have no dental plan, or deodorant, but proclaim a scholarly genius of all worldly woes.
I keep my eyes peeled to the skin on the window - no contact. Contact would open up another story.
Thou shalt give up your seat for the pregnant and elderly.
Thou shalt give up your seat for the pregnant and elderly.
Thou shalt gi.........................
Foreboding eyes warn quickly, then release to the mist forming skin on the windows.
You cannot see from the outside world, how we are packed in an orderly fashion, row upon row: some sitting - some standing with arms reaching to the sky as if pleading to God, send us 5 more commandments.
But they are merely holding on for dear life, because the driver on shift today hates his job and hates the scum of the earth he has to contend with. He hates the smell of whiskey and being short changed and having to make schedule deadlines .... and yellow lights. So he brakes hard, dead stop, as two passengers drop to the ground, knees buckling against baby strollers and wheelchairs amassing flags of Green Peace and Save Tibet.
He is haggard, the interior even worse. It reminds him of years of abuse, battered fist fights, blood and guts, disorderly conduct, puke and piss. And that was only half of the clients I traveled with in the 20 minute long ride to Newton Exchange, where I now have to to transfer to the most notorious route of all, Surrey Central #321.
It is not unusual to have strangers fall asleep on your shoulder, nor converse with you and you and the other you, or have empty beer cans roll between your feet, rattling from seat to seat - Surrey pre-trial clients boasting how they only received 6 months probation and no jail time, custody battles, hard luck stories all accentuated with being wrongly accused and cheap perfume.
The majority clearly have no dental plan, or deodorant, but proclaim a scholarly genius of all worldly woes.
I keep my eyes peeled to the skin on the window - no contact. Contact would open up another story.
Thou shalt give up your seat for the pregnant and elderly.
Thou shalt give up your seat for the pregnant and elderly.
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
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