Whispering Quietly to Myself
What a morning...
As I came down the stairs this morning, I slipped down the last couple of steps. [Am I the only guy on earth who uses "couple" to mean two or three? No, just checked dictionary.com, it's valid usage, and I'm normal.]
Anyway, I winded myself with a stair to the small of the back, a new one for me. That wasn't funny.
Then when I stepped off the morning train, I was witness to something that made me chuckle quietly to myself.
A blind woman and her trusty guide-dog jumped off the train ahead of me. Without hesitation, the guide-dog headed straight over to another guide-dog, and they said Hi.
This involved a bit of walkin' in circles, a bit of tail waggin', and a bit of butt sniffin'. (Shalini made me realise that they may have grown up together at Guide-dog school, or even be related.)
Their owners were not impressed.
"Could you please move your dog away?"
"No, could
you please move
your dog away?"
"Actually, could you please -
move - your
- dog - away?"
It was clear to everyone
else that both of them were blind, and as I wandered away, I felt that they would worked that out too.
Eventually.
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A one-eyed man is king...
I can't resist an internet IQ test, so I tried the
Dog IQ Test. which I heard about on the radio over the weekend.
It was fun, and my results were "15 - 25 points.... Your dog is smart, but won't go to Harvard" which I am taking as a compliment.
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National Survey of Iraq
National Survey of Iraq Feb 2003
Wow, amazing survey. I am a firm believer of going to the source.
If you want to know how the population felt at that time, read this, it's definitely worth it.
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I am a Golden God!
We get buskers down where I work. Not in the office, no; outside along the esplanade. Someone strumming, drumming, joking, juggling or singing, for money. Anything, and in one case, nothing.
When I say nothing, I mean that to earn your hard-earned cash, technically this one guy
-Dresses up in a golden pair of pants, golden jacket, golden hat and golden sunglasses,
-Paints his hands, face and exposed hair golden,
-Stands on a golden box,
-and occasionally - for the big bucks - moves slightly.
It makes me wonder what leads someone to begin a career in standing still. I shouldn't stoop to saying he is an unskilled stander, but could he not find a single other skill to entertain a crowd with?
Was standing still his
best option for pulling the punters, and a earning a living?
Naturally, he's mad. I've watched him loudly abuse people if they take a photo and don't drop a coin into his gold box. I've watched him threaten violence to children who touch him or his stuff.
Why? Clearly the gold paint covering his body has leeched into his brain. When I say
mad, I mean that technically, this guy is suffering from mercury poisoning.
Q.O: Who picked the alliteration above?
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From the Cake-holes of Babes
Essays
Found a link to this page today, at
The Straight Dope and, having only read the first essay, am looking forward to the rest.
I love kids!
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Mark gets off his arse.
I've been thinking for a while that I have nothing to share, but was reminded recently that the view from my eyes is different from everyone else's.
I ride my push-bike to work and back most days now. I started a couple of weeks ago. It was as easy as finding a cheap bike, buying the bike, checking and adjusting the bike, finding a place to park the bike near work (basement), ensuring I had access to the basement when I needed, finding a place to shower before work, finding a route between work and home, buying a lock, buying a set of lights, and easy as one-two... nine, Bob's your uncle.
So my usual morning ritual of the last ten years has changed to:
1) Get up. [Mark scowls and rolls his eyes]
1) Clean face, brush teeth.
2) Put on sneakers, t-shirt and Lycra™ bike shorts.
3) Dodge derogatory cross-dressing remarks from wife. [Mark sighs]
4) Roll up work clothes and pack backpack.
5) Jump on bike and start pedaling. [Mark remarks to himself on the schlong-shrinking temperature]
6) Reach "Capital City Trail." [Mark smiles at the duckies splashing in the watah]
7) Pedal some more you un-fit git. [Mark puffs]
8) Keep pedaling.
9) Arrive at work. Roll in casually and put bike in basement. [Mark grins in the glow of satisfaction]
10) Shower in water that seems to burn your hands, freeze your head and thaw the wind from your soul. [Mark beams and grunts]
11) Dress. [Mark avoids the puddles of warm water on change-room floor which he hates]
From there, it's business as usual. So overall, it's as good an experience as it is a bad one. Surely ten minutes a day of exercise will be worth it.
OK, that was a joke; it's forty minutes, but that's enough for now, alright?
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