Peeing in the Shower

OK - yesterday I happened to mention that I often pee in the shower. Don’t ask me how or why we got on the topic (it will soon become evident) but I stated that I had heard that urine prevents athletes foot and it was perfectly acceptable (in one's own shower) to urinate while in the shower. To say that my dinner companions were horrified would be an understatement. These same people had just been discussing the fact that they both currently suffer from plantar warts on their feet. Now that is disgusting! A highly contagious virus which can be spread to others every time you take off your socks and walk around. So this is where the conversation turned - I happened to mention that I had never experienced a plantar wart and I attributed this, in part, to my regular activity of urinating in the shower. Scoffed and ridiculed me they did and challenged me to prove my contention. With that in mind I did a wee bit of research. If the web is to be believed (and I admit that is a stretch), I have proven my case.



The following excerpt has been lifted from the following site: CLICK FOR FULL ARTICLE
"For almost the entire course of the 20th century, unknown to the public, doctors and medical researchers have been proving in both laboratory and clinical testing that our own urine is an enormous source of vital nutrients, vitamins, hormones, enzymes and critical antibodies that cannot be duplicated or derived from any other source. They use urine for healing cancer, heart disease, allergies, auto-immune diseases, diabetes, asthma, infertility, infections, wounds and on and on -- yet we're taught that urine is a toxic waste product. This discrepancy between the medical truth and the public information regarding urine is ludicrous and, as the news releases you've just read demonstrate, can mean the difference between life and death to you and to your loved ones."



The following excerpt has been lifted from the following site: CLICK FOR FULL ARTICLE
Tom Brokaw, NBC Nightly News, October 16, 1992:
"In Egypt, rescue workers found a 37-year-old man alive in earthquake rubble. He survived almost 82 hours by drinking his own urine. His wife, daughter and mother would not and they died."
Associated Press, July, 1985:
I don't think there's any question that these women and the child would not have died had they simply been aware of the truth that not only would their own urine not harm them, but would, in fact, have provided a power-packed combination of liquid nutrients and critical immune factors that would have sustained them in good health until help arrived.


And of course if the idea of drinking your own urine is not your cup of tea so to speak - the evidence that it does prevent foot fungus of all types is clear. One example lifted from the following site:CLICK FOR FULL ARTICLE

Anyway, if you have a nasty case of foot fungus and want to try the easiest and least expensive home remedy I'm currently aware of, pour or pee some of your own urine on the problem in the shower, let it set for a minute or two, and then wash it off. Repeat as necessary whenever you shower until the problem heals.



Thus I State - Case Proven - Pee Without Guilt - After all, as was pointed out by George - all the drains are connected anyway!

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Remember the old TV sitcom Cheers? At the time it was one of my favourite sitcoms, in part because I always wanted to have a bar where I could go in and, as the song goes, “where everybody knows your name”. I always thought of myself as a Norm type. Norm Peterson was the rather large fellow who would plant his arse on a corner stool and, for the most part, remain there for the entire show. Every time Norm would enter the bar all of the patrons and staff would welcome him with an enthusiastic - What’s Up Norm!



Well tonight I think I have finally found my place. It all started 18 or 24 months ago when my friend John and I went into this place in Newmarket for wings and a beer before heading off to the movies. The staff were friendly and I recall that John and I teased them about the lack of salt shakers as we both enjoy a dash of salt in our draft. As a joke when we left that night we decided to return the following week armed with a box of salt and an array of salt shakers. True to our vow we did just that the following week and for one reason or another it became our tradition to show up each week armed with a different salt and pepper set. Now these weren’t just ordinary run-of-the-mill salt and pepper sets. No siree Bob! John and I searched the entire province of Ontario to find sets that were unique in their design. We showed up with sets in the form of animals, fish, fruit, and even one set that was a toaster with the two bread slices, one for pepper the other for salt. But I digress from the story. More about our salt and pepper shakers next week if I get permission to take pictures of same.



The long and short of it was that the staff got to know who we were and I dare say looked forward to seeing what new entry would grace the walls of their fine establishment each week. Not that the staff knew our names. Initially we were known as the salt and pepper gang and later after much discussion, the Salt Cartel. The Cartel grew to three members earlier this year when our mutual friend Darlene decided to join us on a regular basis. But again I digress from the main point which is why I now feel at home in this establishment.

The feeling was firmly established last week when The Cartel was invited to the staff Christmas party. Unfortunately, while greatly honoured to have been invited, we were unable to attend. Tonight, much to our surprise, we were given a Christmas card by one of the owners of the establishment. The card thanked us for our patronage throughout the year and was signed by the entire staff. The card also contained a certificate for $50! Ahhhh - now that is true spirit of Christmas and why I now feel that this is the place “where everybody knows my name”.

I encourage all of you who read this and live in the area to visit my home away from home where the staff are extremely friendly and the wings and beer are fantastic. More on this wonderful establishment next week. By the way - tonight was an elephant whose bottom half was pepper and the top half salt.

Wild Wing
Western Produce Plaza
16635 Yonge St. #17 A
Newmarket, Ont.
(905) 830 - 1515

By the way - for those of you unfamiliar with the Norm Peterson humour I have included a few ‘Normisms’

"Can I draw you a beer Norm ?"
"No, I know what they look like. Just pour me one."

"How's a beer sound Norm ?"
"I dunno. I usually finish them before they get a word in."

"What would you say to a beer Normie ?"
"Daddy wuvs you."

"Hey Norm, how's the world been treating you ?"
"Like a baby treats a diaper."

"Hey Mr. Peterson, there's a cold one waiting for you."
"I know, if she calls, I'm not here."

"Pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson ?"
"Alright, but stop me at one...  make that one-thirty."

"How's it going Mr. Peterson ?"
"It's a dog eat dog world, Woody & I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear."

"What's the story Norm ?"
"Boy meets beer. Boy drinks beer. Boy meets another beer."

"Can I pour you a beer Mr. Peterson ?"
"A little early isn't it, Woody ?"
"For a beer ?"
"No, for stupid questions."

Happy New Year

So here we are at the crest of another year. One more puncture in the wall as I pull out the pin in the old calendar and replace it with the 2006 version. This year I am finally going to document my life on the calendar so at this time next year I can look back at all the accomplishments of the previous year. I make that same promise every year BUT this time I mean it. The task should prove easier this coming year thanks to my “Girls of Hawaiian Tropic” calendar. I can’t wait for June. Not only is that the month when school lets out but the girl of the month is sporting an all over tan if you get my drift.



I think it is funny that through an error on my part I accidentally posted a blank entry a few days back which received more comments than any of my normal posts. What is wrong with you people? Jeez!

Back to the subject at hand, New Years. I really don’t understand all the hoopla over the New Years celebration. I mean what exactly are we celebrating? The celebrations of another year on the face of this good earth should be reserved for your birthday, not the resetting of an artificial time clock. We get so worked up in preparation of this damned event. Where to go for New Years, what party, what to wear, etc. If you decide to stay at home and watch TV, as I suspect most of us do, you feel like a loser since you are at home watching Dick Clark get another year older - who even at his age is getting out and seemingly having fun. I suspect this year though will be different since they will have to prop Dick up against some wall so we don’t see him in a wheelchair. Nice - another reminder that we getting older with no more to show for it than we had last year. Maybe I won’t bother writing on my new calendar - it may be too depressing to look back upon. Maybe I have always kept my promise to write on the calendar and there is nothing there at the end of a year. Thank God for the New Year - I can finally forget all that crap that happened LAST YEAR!

Nada

Power Tools For Christmas

If I had seen this advert before Christmas there would be no doubt as to what I would have asked Santa to bring me.

OK OK - after several complaints about the continued noise (may I add the complaints were exclusive female based), I have decided to give you the option of seeing this video - one of my favourites by the way.

If you need your daily fix click here POWER TOOLS

An Electronic Christmas is the Best Christmas

Finally home after a wonderful Christmas. The best part of course being the gifts! And this year it was great - I received an electronic robot vacuum, known as an iRobot (everthing is 'i' something now-a-days - thank you Apple). It is fantastic! Simply push the remote control to tell it to clean ( I mean I don't even have to get out out of my chair) and this things leaves it charging dock, runs around the house vacuuming and after an hour returns to its charging dock. The future has finally come!

Secondly, with a moniker like HouseboatBob you wouldn't expect me to even get into my tub without my brand new, top-o-the-line fishfinder. Now I just need to buy the optional GPS receiver and I will never lose the soap again. The gift that keeps on giving as I now have a project for the March break -installation of same.



The next great gift was the replica Jedi LightSaber! I don't mean the scaled down crappy version that sits on the shelf but an actual working (well as close as can be) model. It is so cool that I'm thinking about enlisting in a Jedi Knight training centre - where ever that may be.


It was the best Christmas Ever.

Santa is Obviously Canadian

Ok - I read an article (see story below) on CNN's website today and I'm a little upset at their conclusion that Santa must be from Iceland. How did they come to that conclusion? They state that emails were sent to Santa in each of the eight countries that have Arctic territory and only Iceland responded. To me that suggests that Santa IS NOT from Iceland - the real Santa wouldn't have the time to respond to a stupid email - he and his elves are too busy preparing for tonight's run. How stupid can these people be.

Now - how do I know that Santa is Canadian? The top five reasons are;

1. Who else but a Canadian would give gifts to people and ask nothing in return.

2. Santa's idea of dressing up for the big night includes wearing red sweatpants - if you know anyone who lives in Northern Canada you will realize that this is an acceptable form of dress on special occasions.

3. He lives at the North Pole - which everyone knows is in Canada because that is where magnetic North exists.

4. We all know that Santa's signature call is .... Ho Ho Ho. I'm sorry but that excludes all countries that do not claim English as their first language.

5. Finally, Santa's costume is Red & White, these are the colours of our beloved flag. Look at the Icelandic flag - I'm sorry I don't see Santa wearing blue.






Iceland wins, but Nordic, other freezing countries say 'He lives here'
Saturday, December 24, 2005 Posted: 1336 GMT (2136 HKT)

OSLO, Norway (Reuters) -- Santa Claus may live in Iceland -- at least if the efficiency of his helpers is a guide -- in what may help the island's drive to win hearts and tourism from Arctic rivals claiming Santa and his reindeer. Only Reykjavik replied when Reuters bureaus in all eight nations with Arctic territory wrote to Father Christmas or local gift bringers -- ranging from Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) in Russia to Julenissen in Norway -- asking: "Where do you live?"

Alcohol Does Kill

The following article (edited for content) was taken from the CNN website. Proof positive that alcohol does kill. The guy promises his Mom he won't drink until he is 100 and then 5 days after sipping champagne on his birthday he dies. Coincidence - I don't think so!!!

Saturday, December 24, 2005 Posted: 0040 GMT (0840 HKT)

ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) -- Norman Vaughan, who as a young man explored Antarctica and spent much of his life seeking adventure, died Friday just a few days after turning 100 years old. Vaughan died at about 10:30 a.m. at Providence Alaska Medical Center surrounded by family and friends, said nursing supervisor Martha George.

Vaughan was well enough on Saturday to enjoy a birthday celebration at the hospital attended by more than 100 friends and hospital workers. His actual birthday was Monday.

Vaughan's motto was "Dream big and dare to fail." As a young man, he joined Admiral Richard Byrd on his expedition to the South Pole in 1928 and 1930 as a dog handler and driver. Days before his 89th birthday he and his wife, Carolyn Muegge-Vaughan, returned to Antarctica and climbed to the summit of 10,320-foot Mount Vaughan, the mountain Byrd named in his honor. His exploits included finishing the 1,100 mile-Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race six times after age 70. At age 96, he carried the Olympic torch in Juneau, passing the flame from a wheelchair, 70 years after he competed in the Olympics as a sled dog racer. He wanted to climb Mount Vaughan again to celebrate his 100th birthday but the expedition fell short of money. He planned to sip champagne at the summit -- the first taste of alcohol for the lifetime teetotaler. "The only liquor I've ever had was the taste of wine at communion," he said. "I told my mother I wouldn't drink until I was 100 and she said, 'That's all right." Vaughan had a taste of champagne Saturday during his birthday celebration.

Canadian eh!

This was sent along by one of my students in an email.


If you went to university in Canada this is too funny.





How many Queen's students does it take to change a light bulb?
One. He holds the bulb up and waits for the world to revolve around him

How many Ryerson students does it take to change a light bulb?
Trick question. Ryerson isn't a real university

How many Lakehead students does it take to change a light bulb?
None. Thunder Bay doesn't have electricity

How many U of T students does it take to change a light bulb?
Two. One to change the light bulb and one to crack under the pressure

How many Algonquin students does it take to change a light bulb?
Only 1. But he gets 6 credits for it

How many Laurentian students does it take to change a light bulb?
None. Sudbury looks better in the dark

How many Waterloo students does it take to change a light bulb?
5. One to design a nuclear-powered one that never needs changing, one to figure out how to power the rest of Waterloo using that nuclear-light bulb, two to install it, and one to write the computer program that controls the wall switch

How many Western students does it to change a light bulb?
5. One to change the light bulb and four to find the perfect JCREW outfit to wear for the occasion

How many McMaster students does it take to change a light bulb?
Two. One to change the bulb and the other to say loudly how he did it as well as any Queen's student

How many Carleton students does it take to change a light bulb?
Two. One to change the bulb and one to complain about how, if they were at a better school, the light bulb wouldn't go out

How many McGill students does it take to change a light bulb?
One. But SHE can't do it on Friday night

How many Brock students does it take to change a light bulb?
7. One to change the bulb and six to throw a party because he didn't screw it in upside down this time

How many Guelph students does it take to change a light bulb?
7. One to screw it in and 6 to figure out how to power it on manure

How many Mt. Allison students does it take to change a light bulb?
5. One to do it and 4 to be in the Macleans photo of it

How many UVic students does it take to change a light bulb?
None. Lava lamps don't burn out man!

How many UBC students does it take to change a light bulb?
4. One to do it and three to translate the instructions

How many Laurier students does it take to change a light bulb?
All of them. They make it a campus affair

How many University of Manitoba students does it take to change a light bulb?
There's a university in Manitoba?

How many York University students does it take to change a light bulb?
3. One to take directions from the science student and one to philosophise about life as a light bulb

How many University of Ottawa students does it take to screw in a light bulb?
1. She screws everything, why not a light bulb?

How many Bishops University students does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
0. Drinking is just as fun in the dark

Turn Out The Lights The Party's Over

Ok - the end of my birthday. I never was one for birthdays - as I said before I hate the whole F'n idea of birthdays but you just can't help that you have one. I want to thank the seven people who wished me a Happy Birthday. Thanks to the following people in the order I received their greetings - Barb, Cheryl, Darlene, Rose, my Mom, Nicole and her mom Debbie. To the rest of you - you're off my Happy Birthday list.

A Christmas Present for Bob

One day, that’s all it took to finally get my Christmas shopping done! Well almost, I have one more gift to pick up but I know what it is and more importantly where it is, so basically I am done.

While I was shopping I was thinking of that day during the summer when I purchased an early Christmas gift to myself. One afternoon, following lunch, a friend of mine (let’s call him John) and I were bored so we decided to wander through furniture stores looking at recliners. After an hour or so I saw it - the chair of my dreams. Although it was one of the most expensive recliners on display, I knew I had to have it. It was a beauty! Not only was it a recliner but it swivelled and could be used as a rocker. It was my destiny to have this chair. I could see myself smothered in its warm embrace on a cold winters night, a brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. As an aside, the preceding imagery was provided by my friend John who at that moment was living vicariously through my wallet since he was too cheap to buy his own chair. I believe he now regrets that decision. Pulling out my credit card and delivering a maximum blow to it, the chair was purchased and delivered a week later. It took me almost the entire week to rearrange my apartment to create a space worthy of this chair.

Now that I had the chair I knew I couldn’t keep calling it The Chair. After all it had personality, it was a part of my life now. I was often heard bragging about The Chair to all my friends. The Chair needed a name.

Several weeks later and no closer to a name, I remember sitting in The Chair while watching Big Brother on CBS when the phone rang. It was a friend of mine, Barb, and she had called to offer her list of potential names for the chair. She stated that the logic for her choices was that since the colour of my chair was blonde (the store officially lists the colour as mushroom), she had chosen names of famous female blondes. It was then that inspiration hit me. My favourite person on Big Brother was Janelle, a blonde. Like my chair, Janelle was strong, someone who could be relied upon. Like my chair, Janelle was soft and beautiful. It was perfect - from that moment forward my chair was to be known as Janelle. I was immensely proud of myself for waiting for the right inspiration and finally selecting a name worthy of my chair!

It was sometime later, a few months after Big Brother ended, that I learned Janelle, that dyed blonde Strumpet, had posed for Playboy before joining Big Brother. How dare the tart taint the reputation of my Janelle! How could she do this to me - my chair would be the laughing stock of all my friends. I must admit I took the news pretty hard for a few months before finally embracing the idea that my chair should be the object of desire by many. With this in mind I decided that my Janelle should also have a photo spread worthy of the most beautiful chair in the world.

Of course the first pose has to be a full on frontal.



Next comes the relaxed, horizontal pose
favoured by many a long-legged blonde.



Finally, the pose from the rear with an over-the-shoulder,
'come-hither' look with just a hint of her mechanism showing.

My Birthday

Well here it is - Tuesday, December 20th and it is my birthday. Damn I hate birthdays. Sure when you are a little kid birthdays are great because you get presents and get away with murder but here I am 51 years old sitting in front of my computer and I hate my birthday. At 51 birthdays are a reminder of how many years you have left - nothing to look forward to let me tell you. I look at the moon (there is a half moon tonight) and wonder how many more full moons do I have left. I think of Christmas which is right around the corner and wonder how many more of those are left - damn few in my opinion.

Birthdays make you think - what the heck did I do with my life - where did it all go. Were we not supposed to be living on the moon by now? Was life not supposed to be easy in the 21st century? So many unfulfilled dreams. Ah well - a drink of whiskey to celebrate and then to bed. Since I did damn little shopping Monday I think I shall spend my birthday shopping for Christmas presents. Did I mention that it sucks to have your birthday so near Christmas - well that is another story.

A Good Egg

A good friend of mine sent me this. You have to click on the picture to view the animation - too funny. Thanks Darlene!

Off to go shopping

OK - after an hour of trying to figure out how to add a photo to my blog, I'm giving up. It would appear that you need to live in the demonic world of windows as opposed to the Mac world in which I live to be able to add a photo. Besides I'm hungry, frustrated and my eyes are sore - what a perfect time to go Christmas shopping. I know what I said earlier but what the heck - I'm bored.

It's the first day of holidays and I'm bored already

What can I say. One day off of teaching and I'm bored. I know I have lots of presents to buy but it is way too early to go shopping - as a man that sort of stuff happens only one, maybe two, days before Christmas. Since this is my first attempt at blogging I'm going to end this and move on to to discovering what else there is to do - at last - a purpose to my life!