I came in to work today at about nine fifty. I admit, that’s a bit of a record for me, but that would’ve been a no-no in the past. It’s not that I’m there to do any less work, it’s just that my brain isn’t really engaged at that point in the morning — I work better later in the day. Caffeine really isn’t doing it for me anymore; the brain is still a slug even though the body’s on the move. Taking her out for a spin like that, that’s just reckless.

But I was one of the first few people in the office. Wow.  Different time schedule. I feel like a bit of a brownnoser right now. Totally unintended though, I swear. But still. Wow.

It’s the past that allows us to cherish moments such as these. The past, who recently requested that I fork over the difference for the “overpayment” on my final paycheque. In fact, I got paid less than usual. I expected less, but I most certainly didn’t get more. *sigh* Why can’t the past just go to hell already?

I’ll tell you why – it’s the battle scars we have to bear with us. Mementos to remind us that comparisons may indeed be made. And of course, nothing’s perfect, but one must also be sure to look around and note one’s blessings. Like not walking away with a chafed anus every day. That’s a nice feeling.

And being reminded of the past is instrumental in helping judge not only present but also future prospects. Take Adam “Jammie-Jams” Giambrone; the baby-faced newcomer to the Toronto mayoral race. I didn’t think it was possible to demonstrate that he has any less personality, but Jammers just turned that assumption on its ear. Here’s Jammie-Jam’s announcement he was going to run:

He’s well known for entering politics at a very young age. See? That’s what happens when you do it too young. You end up a humourless log. For a young guy, you think he’d be able to pull a little charm out of his ass, but it seems he’s plum out.

Poor kid. He even foreshadowed his own downfall at his own I’m-loud-and-I’m-proud event:

I like when he talks about learning lessons from the past to build the city of the future. Holy cow! Wasn’t it, like, just yesterday that another kooky decision by the TTC was uncovered? The one about the buses that have to sit idling outside because some Swedish-made system to keep them warm and ready doesn’t operate well in extremely cold temperatures. (GAH! Isn’t that exactly when it needs to work well?!) I only mention this because it could be any one of the dozens of boondoggles and genuine fuck-ups that Jammers is responsible for. He does, after all, run the TTC.

Wow, I mean, if by some miracle Jammie should get elected, that would necessitate me having to redraw my plans for the future. To something more apocalypsy. I’m sure it won’t happen, but let’s just make sure by not forgetting yesterday’s decimated fields of dreams. Trampled on by Jam-master Giambronay. And when I say yesterday, I mean literally yesterday.

Damn, my anus hasn’t even begun to heal yet. Have they no shame?!

…continued from previous part.

The reason that Honest Ed’s is kid-safe is because of all the nooks and crannies that the little hellions can occupy themselves in. The place is chock-a-block with weird props from all the retired Mirvish shows, plus a bunch of other stuff that Ed collected over the years. Most of it just lying around. At one moment you’re staring into a fun-house mirror, the next you’re enjoying the thrilling rape of Persephone by Hades (bringing us joyous winter every year). Right next to the dirt-cheap sweat pants.

The valuable stuff is all cordoned off with lazily hung caution tape; basically a wishful suggestion. And if you wander around long enough, you get into parts of the store where even the yellow tape is absent. Maybe the stuff is for sale, but he price seems a bit steep for most of Honest Ed’s regulars.

I don’t want to give anyone any ideas but … c’mon! Isn’t this just asking to be robbed?! What kind of an effort would you have to make? Even if you wanted to play Mission Impossible, that ceiling wouldn’t really pose much of a challenge, would it? It would be a really uneventful mission, totally possible. You’d be sorry you bought all that fancy equipment; probably coulda just waltzed in off the street and strolled back out with a 19th century Thai shrine and a few reasonably-priced stainless steel pots.

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