Fear - or - Anticipation

Today I received a present from my boss. A bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. For those of you unfamiliar with Scotch (capitalized on purpose), Blue Label is the premium blended Scotch - one which costs more than most single malts. It has always been a dream of mine to partake of a wee dram of Johnnie’s finest. To experience the rapture of a 60 year old malt as it made love to my mouth and coated my throat with velvet softness as it sought to build a warm fire in my belly. Until now only a dream as I was unwilling to cash in my life savings to fulfil this simple fantasy. As I sit here tonight, cuddled up next to my liquid fantasy, I am filled with anticipation. I’m not too big of a man to admit it - I am afraid to take this relationship to the next level.

In some ways the situation I find myself in is similar to the situation where you find yourself in the presence of a heart stopping, too beautiful for words, out of my comfort zone, unapproachable woman who has captured ever facet of your imagination. You are afraid to approach this fantasy of a female because the odds of her even acknowledging your existence are likely too small to calculate. Are you really worthy of this woman - this angel sent from the heavens?

And what if you do manage to catch her attention. As you begin your seduction of this forbidden woman, as you unwrap her slowly, each layer revealing more and more of a goddess, you are constantly on pins and needles. You're afraid of making a mistake. What if you don’t measure up? In your gut there is a fear - a fear of having her reject you. For in your heart you know that if you were to even once sip from her loveliness it would ruin all future relationships that you may have. You have reached the summit and can not go back. Fear paralyses you to the point where you begin to doubt your own worthiness.

In the end you decide the risk is too great. In the end you want to go to the nearest liquor store and buy a cheap bottle of Scotch - one which you are comfortable with. One which you know will stand no chance of controlling you and forever leave you wanting.

Yet, as long as she lays her head upon your pillow, the anticipation and longing remains.

It's The Simple Ideas

When I first saw this, I thought; well - hell Yes! It's always the simple ideas that seem to catch on. What a great idea. I was also thinking about the old expression - a picture is worth a 1000 words.

A Great Way to Waste Time - at the Carwash

What can I say. I should be grading papers but I found this site and it is a great way to waste time, especially if you are a guy. If only real women were as compliant as these three at the CARWASH . Hint: try single words such as wash, kiss, fight, run, etc. and be sure to wait until you are asked for your command.

On Being Canadian

Yesterday the temperature here rose to a blazing 9 degrees (almost 50 on the good old scale) and I was amazed at the change in dress of a few people brought on by such a short interlude from the freezing temperatures we have had this month. Gone, albeit briefly, were the winter jackets and pants. For one day - and one day only - the bulky winter clothes were replaced by short skirts and skimpy tops. Cleavage, which has been sorely lacking during these past few months of cold weather, was finally on display. It got me to thinking why it is we love being Canadian and put up with these winters.

Being Canadian (specifically male) is like hitting yourself over the head with a hammer. Why do we do it? Because it feels so damn good when we stop. That is what a Canadian winter is all about. For more than 6 months we males are unable to enjoy the finer qualities of females who are constantly bound up in large featureless overcoats, puffy warm sweaters, and most sadly - long, drab skirts or pants. Sure we often catch a glimpse of the winter female face, the features softened by streams of cold induced condensation, as we pass them in the street. In truth though, during a long Canadian winter, it sometimes seems that every attractive female has fled the country to parts unknown.

But come the warm gentle breezes of spring, Canadian males begin to salivate in anticipation of the yearly ritual known as ‘the shedding of the winter clothes’. That day when the skimpy tops return allowing winter whitened tummies to bask in the ever-warming sun. That day when the legs are finally shaved, displayed publicly, their silky smoothness radiant in the low sun angle of the spring months. That special day when breasts are removed from their winter constraints and are free to travel once again unfettered as nature had intended.

Sure, in warm countries females have no need of these bulky clothes and accoutrements and therefore wear this type of clothing 12 months of the year, but Canadian females do it so much better. I believe that the anticipation and enjoyment of the Canadian male is directly related to the over compensation for winter practised by the Canadian female. Women realize that they only have a few brief months to shine in the sun as it were and they make every effort to exhibit their finest qualities. You see, in Canada, come that day, the skirts are just that much tighter and shorter, tops are worn to show a tantalisingly bit more cleavage, bums are more tightly compressed into jeans and seem to bounce with a bit more aggressiveness, toes are finely painted and proudly displayed, hair is washed and conditioned to perfection, and breasts - ahhh those magnificent unfettered breasts - seem to lift themselves upwards, nipples proudly searching for the warmth of the sun overhead.




Unfortunately this morning it is back to freezing temperatures so now I must off to the basement to retrieve my hammer and continue the winter ritual of the Canadian male.

Weekly Cartel Update

Well it was great to see the old man at the helm once again for the weekly Cartel meeting. Dr. DandyCube was able to attend after a long absence and although he couldn’t manage the wings he was able to partake in a wee beer. Absent this week was Mrs. C. (aka LED). It seems that the two are destined never to meet. Perhaps next week.

Again this week, we were served by our most lovely and new favourite at Wild Wing - Crystal - who once again agreed to pose with this weeks Salt & Pepper shakers. I forgot to take a close up of the shakers so you will have to look close to see that they are a matching set of cats. For more information on our Home away from Home - Wild Wing - see Where Everybody Knows Your Name in Decembers rants.

After a round of beer and wings we were off to the movies to see The Matador. Good movie - 2 wings up.

BiMonthly Tie Update

Well here it is the 28th of January and I am well on my way to achieving my goal of not wearing the same tie during the second term. My choices for the last two weeks, shown below, appear to be a tad dull when viewed at once. I think I shall step it up over the next two weeks.

Why is this funny?

Honestly I don't understand why this struck me as so damn funny. Perhaps it is the scotch, perhaps it is that I am up way past my bedtime for a Friday night given the week I've had. I'm not sure but I just about peed myself when I read it.

What do you call a midget psychic who has escaped from prison?

A small medium at large.

A Picture is Worth .....

I’m back blogging after one heck of a brutal week at school. This week was one of the worst in recent memories with respect to emotional pain and suffering. This week, at least 6 students came to me with “Mr. M. I need your help but you can’t tell anyone else about this”. Great - tie my hands right at the onset of the conversation, fill me with your emotional problems and then allow me to twist in the wind while trying to figure out how to help you - all without benefit of counsel because “I can’t tell anyone”. Now these were not trivial issues such as those I faced in school such as getting caught smoking or even drinking on a school trip. No, these kids, maybe it is a reflection on our society, were dealing with extremely ugly problems that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Anyway, I muddled through the week being dragged down every time I heard that phrase, “Mr. M. I need your help but ...”. Add to that the emotional upheaval of one girl getting dumped by her boyfriend and another deciding to go through the pain of dumping her boyfriend. In a school dominated by teenage girls (75% of the population), you can imagine the emotional tides ripping through the school. And to top off the week (may I add that this was the first 5 day work week this year if that wasn’t enough of a burden - I mean I was really getting to enjoy the 4 day a week schedule) I had to suspend a boy from school for 3 weeks this afternoon.

I wish that I had not forgotten my camera at school today so that I could take a picture of myself to show you how dragged out I am at the end of this week. But I did forget it so I must rely upon painting you a picture. Imagine that you were to fill a clean, durable sack with human (or otherwise) excrement. Now take this sack and throw it out of a 3 storey window onto a parking lot where it gets run over by at least 5 cars and one large truck. Next, go down to retrieve the sack from the parking lot but before doing so, take a rather large, wet cat by the tail and start beating the sack with the cat. After the cat has puked up on the sack you take a mental image of that sack and you would have the picture that I would have taken.

Thanks for allowing me to rant. Now the next step in the therapeutic recovery of Bob is to beat a bottle of Scotch into submission as quickly as possible.

P.S. - I didn’t even mention that last night at 6 pm when I tried to go home (the first time before 7 pm all week), a parents car had stalled in the single lane driveway of the school and the tow-truck operator managed to smack himself on the head with an iron bar while trying to jack up the car and he wound up laying flat on his back in the middle of the driveway with blood oozing from his head. I hate to sound like an insensitive bastard but I just wanted to go home but by the time the ambulance took the guy away it was once again past 7 pm.

Weekly Cartel Update

Once again our co-founder, John Boy - aka Dr. DandyCube, failed to make the weekly meeting. His presence is sorely missed, especially by myself now that I am outnumbered 2 to 1 when it comes time to select a movie. John Boy however did leave instructions that for this week the Cartel could not choose a Chick Flick - thank you for that John Boy!

The movie that we went to was UnderWorld:Evolution. What an excellent movie - Vampires, Werewolves, and a hot, tough babe with an English accent dressed in a black latex. What can I say - the movie had it all! I will admit though, the female members of the Cartel were slightly less impressed than I.

Before going to the movie, as is the tradition of the Cartel we presented a Salt & Pepper set to the staff at Wild Wings - our home away from home. Thanks to Crystal for allowing me to take her photo. You just gotta love the staff at Wild Wings!



Now I'm off to watch the game.

Blue vs Pink

As of last night there was no snow on the ground. That all changed in 12 hours and now as I sit here Saturday afternoon there is about 15 cm (more than 5 inches) of snow on the top of my truck. Despite the conditions, I ventured out to the grocery store for lunch as my cupboards were bare (which they usually are).

On the way back, I saw a woman out in her driveway with her snowblower and this got me to thinking (this is usually the start of my problems - thinking that is). When did women start doing ‘blue’ jobs? Taking out the garbage, fixing cars, shovelling snow - these are traditional ‘blue’ jobs. In the 50’s the lines were clear between what was a ‘blue’ job and a ‘pink’ job. When did this change - and - why?

Here is my take on it. My premise - as it is for most things - is that men are driven by the sole need to have sex. Back in the 1940’s, lets say sometime after W.W.II, until about the 1990’s, men decided that the only way they could overcome the “I’m too tired tonight” syndrome was to make the ‘pink’ jobs easier for women. Great technological advances were made by male scientists & engineers during this time period. We saw vast improvements in the ease of doing laundry (gone was the washboard and outdoor clothesline), cooking (self cleaning ovens, microwaves, pre-prepared meals, etc.), cleaning (more powerful vacuums, new and improved cleaning products, wrinkle free fabrics), and many more. All this in the quest of having more sex by overcoming the “I’m too tired tonight” syndrome.

The problem that we didn’t see (males tend not to forward think too well) was that the wives now had to go to work to pay for some of these wonders of technology. We had screwed ourselves once more. Not only did they still have the “I’m T T T” syndrome, they also had the freedom and financial independence to demand the direction of the next generation of technological advances. And what did they choose? To make the ‘blue’ jobs simpler of course.

At the time, we bought into this philosophy and rushed headlong into the task without thought as to - why (as I said previously we aren’t great forward thinkers). We could envision that if we were to please the female sex with new and improved products, then they would be so happy with us they would give us more sex and, as a side benefit, we wouldn’t be so tired ourselves. Soon we had over-engineered the automobile to the point where we understood how to fix it no better than our wives. We gleefully invented the plastic garbage bag so that there was no Herculean effort nor nasty odour to deal with on garbage day. We leapt at the opportunity to put an electric starter on small engines and then took it one step further with the power driven lawnmower and power driven snowblower. This is where my story started.

Gentlemen - we screwed ourselves. We have fallen to into their trap and have succeeded only in replacing out traditional ‘blue’ jobs with generic ‘no colour specified’ jobs. This means that women have no use for us - except of course for the obvious and even that is beginning to change. We aren’t even needed to open the pickle jar (double entendre intended) anymore. We are useless and, as far as I can see, have failed in our prime directive to get more sex. To what have we reverted to you ask? From my years of observing the male species, I am prepared to state that we are currently in the process of reverting from our traditional ‘me big & strong hunter and provider’ genetically determined role in society to that of the ‘new age sensitive guy / friend’. If this continues then God herself will not be able to help us!

Friday At Home

Received some pretty exciting news today. One of my students from 2 years ago, Kate Foster - the one who decided not to go to university but instead pursue her goal of snowboarding, has qualified for the Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy this year. Kate was able to qualify for the British snowboarding team since she has dual Canadian / British nationality and even though she turned her back on her country - who cares - she made it to the Olympics. Well done Kate - it gives me a reason to watch the Olympics.

Now for some sad news. This is the last weekend for some real football save for the big show in two weeks which is more of a media event than football game. Makes me sad to know that the football season has come to an end. That leaves me watching curling from now on and though it can be exciting, curling suffers from a lack of good looking cheerleaders. Speaking of which, football could improve its standing if they were to hire more cheerleaders like the ones employed by this Brazilian team. I really have to find out what sport these cheerleaders are supporting. The half-time show must be spectacular!

A Whole Day Off ! ! !

Great News! This morning at 6:55 am, I received a phone call informing me that the school was closed. Usually I get the phone call after I've had a shower and can't get back to sleep but this morning I had just crawled (it's an old age thing) out of bed and was still dozy enough to make my way back to my nest of pillows, sheets, and comforter. Ah - Bliss. I slept until 10 and then had to get up to answer the call of nature (another old age thing). Then for some dumb reason I started to work - and work - and work. As I sit here at 6:30 pm I still have two more tests to prep for tomorrow. What the heck! I didn't even enjoy the stupid day off. A whole day wasted and nothing interesting to show for it. Yeah the bills are paid, tests marked, reports done, apartment clean, and garbage out but that is hardly what I wanted to do when I first got the call this morning. A lesson learned - treat a free day with respect and don't worry about all the things you have to get done. Instead, plan on how to create a day full of maximum fun. Never again, quoth HouseboatBobby, Never again.

Dante's Inferno

Recently my English Literature class undertook an examination of Dante's Inferno. Predictably, one of my more Z-Ready students ( Yes you Miss F.) found an interesting test on the internet. Up for any challenge, I took the test and my results, although disappointing (you can read that anyway you want) were not surprising.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Fifth Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Extreme
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Extreme
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Very High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

If you take the test yourself, let me know how you made out - maybe we can be neighbours in hell.

Freezing Rain - 1/2 Day Off School

I think getting a half day off school is much like kissing your sister but what the heck, I’ll take it. You gotta love Southern Ontario this time of year for the sudden snow storms off the lake and the occasional freezing rain episode. Last year we were lucky enough to get 6 snow days off school. This year, what with that damn global warming, it looks like we will get one or two at the most. Why can’t we learn to control global warming so that it only occurs in the summer months and during holidays like Christmas and March break - now that would be progress.

Anyway - not much to say this week so far. Same old , same old - except for the upcoming parent/teacher interviews scheduled for Thursday - which I dread as much as any student. Though they will likely drag on until 10 pm or so, I do have the day off Friday as the kids go skiing again so I can’t complain too much. After all - I have yet to put in a full 5 days per week at the school so far this year. Do you ever wonder why teachers bitch - I do. Wonder that is. I mean it’s the best job in the world, with great holidays and benefits. What is there is complain about? Unlike myself, I think most teachers go from teachers college right into teaching and don’t really understand how damn difficult, depressing and frustrating it can be to have a real job. Teachers should only be allowed to teach after spending several years in the real world of business & commerce - then they would just shut up and enjoy the experience. But then again - we wouldn’t be Canadian if we didn’t bitch about something and feel superior to (and at the same time jealous of) Americans.

Weekend Update

Today is the day I've been waiting for since last spring. I can almost hear the cell phone ringing. It is the season premier of 24! This is the best show ever. If you haven’t seen it - watch it! Nuf said.




Well it has been two weeks into the second term at school and so far I’ve lived up to my goal. That being to never wear the same tie twice this term. It may not sound like a highly altruistic goal but hey - it’s the attainable goals that make us happy. On that same note - I did get the closet cleaned!

Memories of a Full Moon

After a much deserved nights sleep I am now fully rested and full of energy. Today I thought I would tackle my storage closet. As you can see it is a disaster. Full of junk accumulated over the past two years since I last made a stab of cleaning it up. But my friend it won’t be easy. Too many memories will be brought to the surface since in there somewhere is all my camping, canoeing and houseboating stuff. I know that as I am cleaning I will stop every ten minutes or so and lose myself in the great memories of the past Canadian summers.

I am looking at the calendar on my wall now and see that tonight is a full moon. Three more to watch before the full moon in May (specifically Saturday May 13th). On that day I shall once again hold to tradition and depart on my boat in the early evening to drive into the middle of the bay and with the boat heading North down the lake I shall strip naked, make my way to the roof, and howl at the moon with a bottle in my hand. (the picture shown has been edited to protect the innocent). There is no greater feeling in the world than to know that you have made it to another summer and that at that particular moment in time - you rule the world. Ahhh - memories! Can’t wait - but first - off to the closet.

He's ALIVE ! ! !

It is time for Bobbie to get to bed. However, I thought I would first let you know I am alive and well despite a night supervising the sleep over at the school followed by an all day meeting with the head master and mistress (sounds rather kinky doesn’t it - trust me it wasn’t) the next day.

The sleep over was great fun (if you are a teenager - which I am in spirit). We ordered a pizza at about 7, watched movies on the big projection screen - a far cry from the old days (see previous entry) when 18 kids huddled around a 19 inch TV screen (that’s 1-1/18th of square inch of TV per student for you math students), as well as playing several lack of sleep induced games such as; catch the ball in the strobe light room, drag racing down the hall in sleeping bags, hide and seek with the previously blog mentioned LightSaber, and the ever popular full sleeping bag race around the dining hall. What can I say - a night of fun with most students collapsing around 3 am and myself dropping at 3:30 after ensuring all were sleeping soundly.

The late night wasn’t the problem - it was the getting up at 7 am to make coffee, rouse the students and get them up to make breakfast and get ready for skiing that was the real challenge. Suffice it to say that they all got on the bus, I made it through the meeting and I am home now with a glass of liquid sleep, a cigar and a body ready to drop for 15 hours of proper sleep. Nite all!

Random Thought and Rants

I’m in the midst of a book in which the main character makes the following statement, “Men may be violent but women are cruel ...”. I never thought about the difference between men and women in those terms but when I read that line I thought, yes - that’s it! Think about it - there is a lot of truth to that statement. Most of you won’t understand why that statement struck me as important but suffice it to say that it relates to some of the crap going on at school right now. Anyway - enough said, on to other topics.

Tomorrow (Thursday) the kids from school are doing a sleep-over at the school and guess who gets to supervise. Yep - Me. After getting to bed at 9 last night and finally getting the first full night sleep in two weeks (I’ve been sleeping about 3 hours a night lately), I get to lose all I have gained in sleep and sanity by supervising kids until all hours of the morning - if they go to sleep at all! And when (or if) I get to go to bed, I get to sleep on a wooden floor in a sleeping bag. Can my life get any better. The only saving grace is that the kids are going skiing Friday so I don’t have to teach the next day - no - I get to be in meetings all day. I think I will hit the whiskey store Friday on the way home.

Today I brought my LightSaber to school. I was the Jedi teacher - if you got a wrong answer you got a crack on the head (lightly) with the LightSaber. It didn’t seem to help their math skills but it was a lot of fun for me! And yes, there was a lot of jealousy at school today. Most of the kids wanted their own LightSaber but I explained that this was not possible because they were not Jedi nor could they afford it. OK - so most of them thought I was crazy for paying that much for a toy. Kids now-a-days, jeez, they are growing up too fast. In my day we didn’t grow up until .... wait I’ve never grown up AND I’M NOT GOING TO! Enough for now - I’ve got to get my list of practical jokes together for tomorrow night - just in case the bums try and fall asleep too early.

A Fallen Comrade

The very existence of the Salt & Pepper Cartel has been threatened by the untimely illness of one of our founding fathers. Dr. DandyCube has been struck down in the prime of his life (give or take a few years) and finds himself now unable to partake in the pleasures of fried food and alcohol (he is also not allowed raw vegetables but who really cares about that stuff). How unfair is this - is there no justice in the world. While Dr. DandyCube is still able to carry on with his shameless flirting with waitresses it would seem that the added temptation of food and alcohol would be too much for him to handle and he has withdrawn himself from the weekly membership meetings at Wild Wings. Our founder needs your help.I call out to all of you concerned with the perils of getting older - go now and start fund-raising to stop this dreaded disease known as old age. It’s impact on our society must be arrested. I encourage you to buy plastic flesh coloured bracelets in support of the cause. Write, e-mail or call your local MP to advance the cause of more funding into the prevention of old age. Organize a run (or slow walk) to raise the much needed money. Construct cute little ribbons made from the intestines of pigs - whatever it takes to raise money in aid of putting an end to this debilitating disease.

As for our founding father, may he find peace and satisfaction eating porridge and broth. But for those of us still alive - let us all be truly thankful that no matter how old we are - we are still able to abuse our digestive tract with food and alcohol to our hearts content and let us do so before we also find ourselves at the point where we are unable to enjoy the simple pleasures in life.