Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!
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Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts
July 05, 2010
Nauman Theory
Nauman Theory: A Special Presentation of Irrelevant Opinions.
Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!
Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!
June 15, 2009
April 14, 2008
Why I Will Never Become a Sens Fan
In eight years in living in Ottawa as a big hockey fan, I have never liked the Ottawa Senators. Even through several relatively successful years, and a Stanley Cup run that came up just short last season, I never cheered for this team, or felt any inkling of excitement for their success. Even while my Habs missed the playoffs repeatedly, I could never bring myself to like the Sens in their stead.
I almost felt sympathy for them this year for enduring one of the most incredible collapses in hockey history, entering the playoffs as the underdog in a season they began with an astonishing thirteen straight wins. I wanted them to put up a fight against the Penguins, and maybe even advance to the second round. I wanted them to be at least somewhat competitive; I didn't want them to be completely embarrassed by Crosby, Hossa, Malkin, and the rest of the Pittsburgh team.
But they brought on the embarrassment themselves, with what must be the worst introduction to any sporting event in the history of the universe. I didn't like the Sens to begin with, but now I'm not sure I can ever like them, after this ridiculous performance.
I could hardly endure two minutes of this.
If you're going to do something incredibly stupid in front of twenty-thousand people, you should probably at least make sure your microphone is working properly and that your costume fits.
Whoever came up with that idea should be fired, and forced to eat Diamond Shreddies for a year. That might teach them a thing or two about marketing.
I almost felt sympathy for them this year for enduring one of the most incredible collapses in hockey history, entering the playoffs as the underdog in a season they began with an astonishing thirteen straight wins. I wanted them to put up a fight against the Penguins, and maybe even advance to the second round. I wanted them to be at least somewhat competitive; I didn't want them to be completely embarrassed by Crosby, Hossa, Malkin, and the rest of the Pittsburgh team.
But they brought on the embarrassment themselves, with what must be the worst introduction to any sporting event in the history of the universe. I didn't like the Sens to begin with, but now I'm not sure I can ever like them, after this ridiculous performance.
I could hardly endure two minutes of this.
If you're going to do something incredibly stupid in front of twenty-thousand people, you should probably at least make sure your microphone is working properly and that your costume fits.
Whoever came up with that idea should be fired, and forced to eat Diamond Shreddies for a year. That might teach them a thing or two about marketing.
March 30, 2008
Plugs in my cereal
As is my somewhat usual Sunday routine, I went out for grocery shopping this morning. I don't usually look for my cereal to be fortified with irony, but I definitely must give credit to the marketing team at Post Cereals for the ironic absurdity that are Diamond Shreddies.
As I picked up a box of Crispix, I looked over at a little girl in the same aisle, pleading to her mother to pick up a box of Diamond Shreddies instead of the boring old regular Shreddies she had already picked up. I couldn't help but laugh at the brilliance of this marketing gimmick.
For those unaware of Shreddies, it is a fairly wholesome whole wheat breakfast cereal, square shaped, usually served in a bowl with milk. There are variations, such as Frosted Shreddies (not halal), and a chocolate variant. Some top it with fruit or honey.
According to the website, recent advances in cereal technology have allowed them to take Shreddies cereal to a whole new level of geometric superiority. Yes, cereal technology. And geometric superiority. These people are amazing.
That 45o degree rotation seduced the little girl, who beckoned her mother to select the rotationally advantaged cereal. The mother complied, and off they went down the aisle. The two cereals are exactly the same inside the box, but only one of them would have random consumers writing about them in their oft-neglected blogs.
Yes, welcome to the 45th degree. Where I can actually write about cereal legitimately.
As I picked up a box of Crispix, I looked over at a little girl in the same aisle, pleading to her mother to pick up a box of Diamond Shreddies instead of the boring old regular Shreddies she had already picked up. I couldn't help but laugh at the brilliance of this marketing gimmick.
For those unaware of Shreddies, it is a fairly wholesome whole wheat breakfast cereal, square shaped, usually served in a bowl with milk. There are variations, such as Frosted Shreddies (not halal), and a chocolate variant. Some top it with fruit or honey.
According to the website, recent advances in cereal technology have allowed them to take Shreddies cereal to a whole new level of geometric superiority. Yes, cereal technology. And geometric superiority. These people are amazing.
That 45o degree rotation seduced the little girl, who beckoned her mother to select the rotationally advantaged cereal. The mother complied, and off they went down the aisle. The two cereals are exactly the same inside the box, but only one of them would have random consumers writing about them in their oft-neglected blogs.
One taste and you'll wonder how you've been so square for so long. Welcome to the 45th degree. Welcome to Diamond Shreddies country.
Yes, welcome to the 45th degree. Where I can actually write about cereal legitimately.
October 20, 2007
Weak Signal
I was out for dinner a few days ago with a number of my old MSA friends that I had not seen in several years. Among those present at the dinner, half of the group was now married, while the rest of us were all in various stages of transition from academia to the working life. The topic of conversation briefly moved to marriage, and the married folk among my friends insisted on offering their thoughts and feelings on what marriage means.
One offered up this analogy:
"Finding a wife ... is like finding a good cell phone plan. It takes a long time, but if you get the right one, it's ... very good."
He tried supporting his analogy with some examples, but I don't think anyone quite understood the point he was trying to make. Or maybe it was just me; marriage metaphors are just not my thing.
"I'm on a Pay-as-you-Go plan," I replied. "I don't think that would be quite ethical..."
The evening remained quite enjoyable, but the married folks eventually had to leave, unable to join the rest of us for the obligatory post-dinner Tim Hortons trip.
"Yeah, I should get back home," one said. "My wife called a few times."
One of my friends offered the following retort, which finally made sense of the absurd cell phone analogy.
"Oh, so I take it you've ran out of minutes?"
One offered up this analogy:
"Finding a wife ... is like finding a good cell phone plan. It takes a long time, but if you get the right one, it's ... very good."
He tried supporting his analogy with some examples, but I don't think anyone quite understood the point he was trying to make. Or maybe it was just me; marriage metaphors are just not my thing.
"I'm on a Pay-as-you-Go plan," I replied. "I don't think that would be quite ethical..."
The evening remained quite enjoyable, but the married folks eventually had to leave, unable to join the rest of us for the obligatory post-dinner Tim Hortons trip.
"Yeah, I should get back home," one said. "My wife called a few times."
One of my friends offered the following retort, which finally made sense of the absurd cell phone analogy.
"Oh, so I take it you've ran out of minutes?"
September 05, 2007
July 08, 2007
[Protected] Allegorical Absurdity: The Ugly Duckling
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April 01, 2007
ill relevant opinions
It's been over a month since I posted here. In my defense, daylight savings time hit several weeks earlier this year, so the month of March was an hour shorter than usual.
During this hiatus, I thought to myself, "what am I missing?" And now I know. There was a certain edge that was missing. A rage, if you will. The sort of rage that is best expressed through convoluted rap lyrics. So here goes; as of today, Irrelevant Opinions has gone ghetto, and none o'ya can say nothin' to make me change my mind, dawg. An' from now on, ya can call me MC Slam.
yo .. one two .. check one two
yo, we'z back and we gots a new attitude
so y'allz best sit back, expressin' your gratitude
for deze opinionz, clever and astute
if you don't like 'em, yer gonna get da boot
cuz deze rhymez keep comin' an' flowin'
a real sight to see when mc slam gets goin'
i keep rhymin', ain't no sign of slowin'
flyin' rhymez like some kinda boeing
yeah, we'll rap, through thick an' thin
so grab a coffee, and roll up da rim to win
an' if you loze, and ya ain't feelin' cheery
express your melancholy at target theory
dats da place to go when yer feelin' weary
breakin' down like my chevy cavaliery
so listen to me an' my cheezy ebonics
i ain't hooked on dope, yo, i be hooked on phonics
so keep readin', you an' yer minionz
keep readin' deze irrelevant opinionz
y'allz be thinkin' dis blog waz dead
but deze new rhymez give me mad street cred
no more bloggin' 'bout bugz in my cereal
now i'm goin' wit' da gangsta material
no more expressin' my irrelevant viewz
an' droppin' random links to cbc newz
now i be bloggin' 'bout drugz an' booze
while i pump my funky basketball shoez
if ya don't like it, don't try to sway
me away from my amazin' new bloggin' way
ya better not be hatin', ya better not provoke
ya better understand dis be an april foolz day joke
so y'allz best follow yer noze an' wiggle yer toez
cuz everyone knowz da rhymez we compoze
aight man, let's get outta here
w0rd to your brother
Update 4.1.2007: Special thanks to Google, for their new free broadband service which allowed me to post this.
During this hiatus, I thought to myself, "what am I missing?" And now I know. There was a certain edge that was missing. A rage, if you will. The sort of rage that is best expressed through convoluted rap lyrics. So here goes; as of today, Irrelevant Opinions has gone ghetto, and none o'ya can say nothin' to make me change my mind, dawg. An' from now on, ya can call me MC Slam.
yo .. one two .. check one two
yo, we'z back and we gots a new attitude
so y'allz best sit back, expressin' your gratitude
for deze opinionz, clever and astute
if you don't like 'em, yer gonna get da boot
cuz deze rhymez keep comin' an' flowin'
a real sight to see when mc slam gets goin'
i keep rhymin', ain't no sign of slowin'
flyin' rhymez like some kinda boeing
yeah, we'll rap, through thick an' thin
so grab a coffee, and roll up da rim to win
an' if you loze, and ya ain't feelin' cheery
express your melancholy at target theory
dats da place to go when yer feelin' weary
breakin' down like my chevy cavaliery
so listen to me an' my cheezy ebonics
i ain't hooked on dope, yo, i be hooked on phonics
so keep readin', you an' yer minionz
keep readin' deze irrelevant opinionz
y'allz be thinkin' dis blog waz dead
but deze new rhymez give me mad street cred
no more bloggin' 'bout bugz in my cereal
now i'm goin' wit' da gangsta material
no more expressin' my irrelevant viewz
an' droppin' random links to cbc newz
now i be bloggin' 'bout drugz an' booze
while i pump my funky basketball shoez
if ya don't like it, don't try to sway
me away from my amazin' new bloggin' way
ya better not be hatin', ya better not provoke
ya better understand dis be an april foolz day joke
so y'allz best follow yer noze an' wiggle yer toez
cuz everyone knowz da rhymez we compoze
aight man, let's get outta here
w0rd to your brother
Update 4.1.2007: Special thanks to Google, for their new free broadband service which allowed me to post this.
January 05, 2007
December 07, 2006
the blurst of times
a thousand monkeys at a thousand laptops a novel does not make
for behind the words is a work of sweat, hardship and heartache
yet the monkeys tried and sweat they did, all for menial pay
but still they tried, and felt inside they'd finally have their day
most would fail, to no avail was their random typing
a broken dream, they'd yell and scream and wouldn't quit their griping
but there was success, as the monkey press made it so well known
some did their best, made it big, and now are on their own
one group punched many keys but they were gibberish at best
but those who read them came to greet them, thinking they expressed
words of sorrow, words of anger, appealing to the stressed
and the group broke off, became big stars, and went out to the west
others smashed away, an odd array, of u's and i's and t's
but some found words that appealed to nerds of dubious degrees
and thus they learned and quickly turned to their expertise
and made big bucks, in their monkey tux, doing as they please
one remained who wrote his mind, he had so much to say
of humour, heartache and all between, in a unique monkey way
and the monkey earned respect and love, and oh so much hype!
but all alone and in the light, poor monkey couldn't type.
for behind the words is a work of sweat, hardship and heartache
yet the monkeys tried and sweat they did, all for menial pay
but still they tried, and felt inside they'd finally have their day
most would fail, to no avail was their random typing
a broken dream, they'd yell and scream and wouldn't quit their griping
but there was success, as the monkey press made it so well known
some did their best, made it big, and now are on their own
one group punched many keys but they were gibberish at best
but those who read them came to greet them, thinking they expressed
words of sorrow, words of anger, appealing to the stressed
and the group broke off, became big stars, and went out to the west
others smashed away, an odd array, of u's and i's and t's
but some found words that appealed to nerds of dubious degrees
and thus they learned and quickly turned to their expertise
and made big bucks, in their monkey tux, doing as they please
one remained who wrote his mind, he had so much to say
of humour, heartache and all between, in a unique monkey way
and the monkey earned respect and love, and oh so much hype!
but all alone and in the light, poor monkey couldn't type.
November 16, 2006
Litterbugs in my cereal
When I saw this sign at a park off Highway 99, a whole slew of bizarre images were conjured up in my tired mind.
The prosecution lawyer advanced to the front of the courtroom. The defendant sat meekly before him. At first, the lawyer said nothing; he wanted to revel in the guilty expression gracing the defendant's face, with his head dropped, his hands folded, and beads of sweat forming. That image alone may have swayed the jury against the favour of the poor defendant.
"So, Mr. Zigglefroo. You see all these people before you. The allegations are clear," the lawyer chided. "Do you realize the implications of this allegation?"
"Yes sir," the defendant whimpered.
"And what do you have to say about these charges?", the lawyer pushed on.
"I .. I have nothing to say."
The lawyer stopped his pacing, and moved to the middle of the courtroom. "He has nothing to say!", he announced. "Mr. Zigglefroo says he has nothing to say! Is that what you told the police when you were caught red-handed in the despicable act you are accused of?!"
"I .. I didn't do anything!" The defendant was nearing tears. The prosecution lawyer felt no sympathy.
"Nothing! He says nothing! My friends, your honour, what this man calls nothing is far from nothing. This man was caught in one of the most vile, most devilish acts in the history of the parks commission. This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, by his own admission threw his culinary waste into a trash receptacle while not in the state of tourism!"
Gasps from the audience. Then silence, broken by the footsteps of the prosecution lawyer as he continued to pace the courtroom.
The defendant continued his whimpering, "I didn't do anything!"
"Nothing? Nothing?! You mock the law! You break the law, then you mock the law! It is people like you who are the bane of our society. You start off as toddlers, playing games meant for three-year olds while you're only two. You tear the labels off pillows which specifically warn you against tearing said labels. You eat just one Lays potato chip, and you can believe it's not butter! And what do you say you've done? Nothing!"
The sweat begins to drop more profusely. Mr. Zigglefroo's face is red.
"And then one day, you'll walk into a zoo with a sawed-off shotgun and start killing pandas left, right and centre, strangling ostriches while chewing on the cartilage of squirrels!"
Objection! Overruled! Other typical courtroom clichés! The defendant, poor Mr. Zigglefroo, sat all alone as the murmurs amid the crowd became louder, more pointed, more accusing. And the lawyer would not let up.
"This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, is a criminal! The sign was clear, 'Tourist Use Only!' And was Zigglefroo a tourist? No! He was on business! And all others dumping refuse will be prosecuted! And here he is now, proving his guilt by his silence! He was no tourist - but soon he'll be touring JAIL! Hahahahahah!!!"
Pandemonium ensues. The crowd begins throwing crumpled papers and rocks toward the defendant. A brawl breaks out amid the jury. One lady gets punched in the face, and she returns the favour by smashing a chair against someone else. Another gets hit in the head with a stapler. She throws a pencil.
Finally, Mr. Zigglefroo broke. He leaped out of his seat alone at the front of the courtroom, his whimpering face turned to rage and insanity.
"Yes! I did it! I did it! And I'll do it again! Yaargh!!!" And with that, he began running around the courtroom in circles, grabbing the gavel off the judge's desk, while the bailiff attempted to tackle him and restore order. But even as he was pinned underneath the bailiff, Mr. Zigglefroo managed to shove the gavel into the gaping maw of the bailiff.
"Whoops, sorry Mr. Bailiff! Your mouth didn't say food use only!! Yargh!!"
The judge came down from his platform, let his robe drop to the ground, and kicked Mr. Zigglefroo in the head knocking him unconscious. Finally, order restored. The judge then pulled the gavel out of the bailiff's face, taking another quick jab at the jaw of Mr. Zigglefroo with the blunt end.
"Court adjourned," he stated.
And thus Mr. Zigglefroo was dragged from the courtroom, and all the others proceeded to file away. Everything was left in disarray; papers scattered everywhere, coats and glasses and briefcases spread across the room, and for some reason, there was an injured turtle resting limp in the aisle. And so it remained until evening.
Finally, a janitor entered the room, surveying the carnage. He began sweeping his way through the spoils of the drama, until he realized something was awry. "Hmm.. where do I throw all this out?"
Disclaimer: Obviously, I know nothing about the legal system.
Oh, and I feel fine.
The prosecution lawyer advanced to the front of the courtroom. The defendant sat meekly before him. At first, the lawyer said nothing; he wanted to revel in the guilty expression gracing the defendant's face, with his head dropped, his hands folded, and beads of sweat forming. That image alone may have swayed the jury against the favour of the poor defendant.
"So, Mr. Zigglefroo. You see all these people before you. The allegations are clear," the lawyer chided. "Do you realize the implications of this allegation?"
"Yes sir," the defendant whimpered.
"And what do you have to say about these charges?", the lawyer pushed on.
"I .. I have nothing to say."
The lawyer stopped his pacing, and moved to the middle of the courtroom. "He has nothing to say!", he announced. "Mr. Zigglefroo says he has nothing to say! Is that what you told the police when you were caught red-handed in the despicable act you are accused of?!"
"I .. I didn't do anything!" The defendant was nearing tears. The prosecution lawyer felt no sympathy.
"Nothing! He says nothing! My friends, your honour, what this man calls nothing is far from nothing. This man was caught in one of the most vile, most devilish acts in the history of the parks commission. This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, by his own admission threw his culinary waste into a trash receptacle while not in the state of tourism!"
Gasps from the audience. Then silence, broken by the footsteps of the prosecution lawyer as he continued to pace the courtroom.
The defendant continued his whimpering, "I didn't do anything!"
"Nothing? Nothing?! You mock the law! You break the law, then you mock the law! It is people like you who are the bane of our society. You start off as toddlers, playing games meant for three-year olds while you're only two. You tear the labels off pillows which specifically warn you against tearing said labels. You eat just one Lays potato chip, and you can believe it's not butter! And what do you say you've done? Nothing!"
The sweat begins to drop more profusely. Mr. Zigglefroo's face is red.
"And then one day, you'll walk into a zoo with a sawed-off shotgun and start killing pandas left, right and centre, strangling ostriches while chewing on the cartilage of squirrels!"
Objection! Overruled! Other typical courtroom clichés! The defendant, poor Mr. Zigglefroo, sat all alone as the murmurs amid the crowd became louder, more pointed, more accusing. And the lawyer would not let up.
"This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, is a criminal! The sign was clear, 'Tourist Use Only!' And was Zigglefroo a tourist? No! He was on business! And all others dumping refuse will be prosecuted! And here he is now, proving his guilt by his silence! He was no tourist - but soon he'll be touring JAIL! Hahahahahah!!!"
Pandemonium ensues. The crowd begins throwing crumpled papers and rocks toward the defendant. A brawl breaks out amid the jury. One lady gets punched in the face, and she returns the favour by smashing a chair against someone else. Another gets hit in the head with a stapler. She throws a pencil.
Finally, Mr. Zigglefroo broke. He leaped out of his seat alone at the front of the courtroom, his whimpering face turned to rage and insanity.
"Yes! I did it! I did it! And I'll do it again! Yaargh!!!" And with that, he began running around the courtroom in circles, grabbing the gavel off the judge's desk, while the bailiff attempted to tackle him and restore order. But even as he was pinned underneath the bailiff, Mr. Zigglefroo managed to shove the gavel into the gaping maw of the bailiff.
"Whoops, sorry Mr. Bailiff! Your mouth didn't say food use only!! Yargh!!"
The judge came down from his platform, let his robe drop to the ground, and kicked Mr. Zigglefroo in the head knocking him unconscious. Finally, order restored. The judge then pulled the gavel out of the bailiff's face, taking another quick jab at the jaw of Mr. Zigglefroo with the blunt end.
"Court adjourned," he stated.
And thus Mr. Zigglefroo was dragged from the courtroom, and all the others proceeded to file away. Everything was left in disarray; papers scattered everywhere, coats and glasses and briefcases spread across the room, and for some reason, there was an injured turtle resting limp in the aisle. And so it remained until evening.
Finally, a janitor entered the room, surveying the carnage. He began sweeping his way through the spoils of the drama, until he realized something was awry. "Hmm.. where do I throw all this out?"
Disclaimer: Obviously, I know nothing about the legal system.
Oh, and I feel fine.
September 22, 2006
Something Irrelevant
One personal frustration that bothers me more than it should is this: when I think up a great comeback days or even weeks after an initial remark. Conversely, one of the most satisfying feelings is when I do successfully respond in a timely manner. Thus, the following incident was immensely satisfying in a weird, inane way.
I was in Ottawa after one of my weekly cross-country flights from Vancouver. I was speaking with a friend, who had recently graduated from University of Waterloo. Somehow, we started discussing the quality of tap water; apparently, it is much better in certain parts of Ottawa then others. I mentioned that Vancouver tap water was good. The Waterloo graduate then said, "Man, the water over in Waterloo is terrible."
Quickly, my reply came, "is it because the Water comes from the Loo?"
Toilet humour, but it made me laugh no less.
Moral: Not every story needs a moral.
And with that irrelevant anecdote aside, I am going to take a break from Irrelevant Opinions to sort out some thoughts, focus on Ramadhan, and work on some personal projects.
May you all benefit greatly from the blessed month that is upon us. Ameen.
I was in Ottawa after one of my weekly cross-country flights from Vancouver. I was speaking with a friend, who had recently graduated from University of Waterloo. Somehow, we started discussing the quality of tap water; apparently, it is much better in certain parts of Ottawa then others. I mentioned that Vancouver tap water was good. The Waterloo graduate then said, "Man, the water over in Waterloo is terrible."
Quickly, my reply came, "is it because the Water comes from the Loo?"
Toilet humour, but it made me laugh no less.
Moral: Not every story needs a moral.
And with that irrelevant anecdote aside, I am going to take a break from Irrelevant Opinions to sort out some thoughts, focus on Ramadhan, and work on some personal projects.
May you all benefit greatly from the blessed month that is upon us. Ameen.
July 24, 2006
The Struggle
With all the difficulties going on in the world today, I thought it was time to be a bit nostalgic.
In October 2001, with tensions still high after the attacks in New York and Washington a month earlier, I was riding on Bus 97 towards Bayshore with one of my closest friends. We were both wearing Saudi "thobes" on the bus, and were likely under suspicion already. Regardless, I was in a good mood, and things were soon to become brighter.
While still in downtown, a familiar face walked on to the bus. At first, I didn't recognize him, but then I recalled him as one of my close friends in my CEGEP days; I hadn't seen him in at least two years, and seeing him in Ottawa after knowing him only in Montreal was quite a strange coincidence. His name was Jihad, he was of Lebanese origin. Jihad is a common name meaning "struggle", but is often misinterpreted as an evil word in the traditional Western lexicon.
So when I realized who it was, I burst with enthusiasm, jumped out of my seat, and yelled out on the crowded bus, “JIHAD!!!”
It wasn't until the next day that I realized that I must have freaked out dozens of terrified passengers with an open declaration of holy war.
In October 2001, with tensions still high after the attacks in New York and Washington a month earlier, I was riding on Bus 97 towards Bayshore with one of my closest friends. We were both wearing Saudi "thobes" on the bus, and were likely under suspicion already. Regardless, I was in a good mood, and things were soon to become brighter.
While still in downtown, a familiar face walked on to the bus. At first, I didn't recognize him, but then I recalled him as one of my close friends in my CEGEP days; I hadn't seen him in at least two years, and seeing him in Ottawa after knowing him only in Montreal was quite a strange coincidence. His name was Jihad, he was of Lebanese origin. Jihad is a common name meaning "struggle", but is often misinterpreted as an evil word in the traditional Western lexicon.
So when I realized who it was, I burst with enthusiasm, jumped out of my seat, and yelled out on the crowded bus, “JIHAD!!!”
It wasn't until the next day that I realized that I must have freaked out dozens of terrified passengers with an open declaration of holy war.
July 10, 2006
July 06, 2006
Dahyer sichuayshun
Several months ago, I wrote how technology is corrupting the English language.
Things are getting worse: Push for simpler spelling persists.
Update 8.2.2006: And apparently, technology isn't a problem after all.
Texting helps teens' grammar | Toronto Star
The ironic part is the "verbing" of the word "text" in the title of the article. Either way, I'm not convinced by the results of the study.
Things are getting worse: Push for simpler spelling persists.
Update 8.2.2006: And apparently, technology isn't a problem after all.
Texting helps teens' grammar | Toronto Star
The ironic part is the "verbing" of the word "text" in the title of the article. Either way, I'm not convinced by the results of the study.
April 09, 2006
Cryptic Voicemail
I received this voicemail today; not sure who it is or what they're talking about, but it's quite funny.
April 01, 2006
omg lollzz!!!
aswrwb!!!
sowwy i havent posted in so long!! but i'm vrey happy now as you can see!!!!
omg googel finally reelased google romance!! i am like so happy ad now giggly lolzz!!1111one
and scicents are making dragonz!!!!!!! that is so coool??? yay???
OMG!!!! im so happy rofll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111
ws!!
"Cause it was happy and I was sad, and it made me miss you oh so bad..."
- Jewel (You Were Meant for Me)
sowwy i havent posted in so long!! but i'm vrey happy now as you can see!!!!
omg googel finally reelased google romance!! i am like so happy ad now giggly lolzz!!1111one
and scicents are making dragonz!!!!!!! that is so coool??? yay???
OMG!!!! im so happy rofll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111
ws!!
"Cause it was happy and I was sad, and it made me miss you oh so bad..."
- Jewel (You Were Meant for Me)
January 11, 2006
A tribute to the bugs in my cereal
Part of what inspired me to write that previous post was my frustration with people who pretend to be things they're not. I see lots of these people particularly in Toronto, though this happens everywhere else. In particular, I was tired of seeing people posing as thugged-out gangsters living in ghettos when they actually live in posh, expensive neighbourhoods in suburban Mississauga.
So in tribute to those posers, I present "Bugs in mah Cereal", the thugged-out version, courtesy of the Dialectizer.
Click on the "Dialectize" button for thugged-out fun!
So in tribute to those posers, I present "Bugs in mah Cereal", the thugged-out version, courtesy of the Dialectizer.
Click on the "Dialectize" button for thugged-out fun!
November 14, 2005
This almost makes you want to write buggy code!
When attempting to retrieve a recordset for a web application developed in ASP.NET, I encountered the greatest runtime error ever:
Catastrophic failure! Run, children! Save yourselves!!
This now surpasses the Quartus "This operation is legal, but highly suspicious" error message I encountered in fourth year university as the greatest error message of all time.
Run-time error '-2147418113' Catastrophic failure
There has been a catastrophic failure. Please stand by.
Catastrophic failure! Run, children! Save yourselves!!
This now surpasses the Quartus "This operation is legal, but highly suspicious" error message I encountered in fourth year university as the greatest error message of all time.
November 11, 2005
The Joys of Multiculturalism
This happened over a week ago, but since everyone found this story funny when I told them in person, it has now officially been relegated to an Irrelevant Opinion. Generally, I'll try to keep work-related stuff out of here, but this is an exception.
I was working on the integration of a third party tool into the system we were developing for the federal government. We had been waiting for months for the company to deliver this product, and finally last week, they told us that it was ready to be tested. We scheduled a conference call between a few of us from our company, with the third party vendor joining us from locations in Toronto and Arizona. I had not met any of these people previously, and didn't know most of their names either.
So after everyone introduced themselves on the call, someone asked: "Do we have a jew on the line?" I gasped, perplexed by the question. "Not yet," another replied.
Later, after our test failed, I was told to "touch base with a Jew" before I continue with my testing. I was confused, but didn't inquire further.
Finally, someone else joined the call. He had a heavy Indian accent, and introduced himself to the rest of us on the conference call.
"Hey everyone, this is Aju."
Finally, it all made sense. A few hours later, I was explaining to others within our company how to conduct the tests I had just run. When I told them to "get in touch with a Jew before you move forward," I was greeted with lots of furrowed brows - their confusion was probably amplified since this was being explained to them by a devout Muslim with a thick beard.
Ah, multiculturalism at work! It's a beautiful thing.
I was working on the integration of a third party tool into the system we were developing for the federal government. We had been waiting for months for the company to deliver this product, and finally last week, they told us that it was ready to be tested. We scheduled a conference call between a few of us from our company, with the third party vendor joining us from locations in Toronto and Arizona. I had not met any of these people previously, and didn't know most of their names either.
So after everyone introduced themselves on the call, someone asked: "Do we have a jew on the line?" I gasped, perplexed by the question. "Not yet," another replied.
Later, after our test failed, I was told to "touch base with a Jew" before I continue with my testing. I was confused, but didn't inquire further.
Finally, someone else joined the call. He had a heavy Indian accent, and introduced himself to the rest of us on the conference call.
"Hey everyone, this is Aju."
Finally, it all made sense. A few hours later, I was explaining to others within our company how to conduct the tests I had just run. When I told them to "get in touch with a Jew before you move forward," I was greeted with lots of furrowed brows - their confusion was probably amplified since this was being explained to them by a devout Muslim with a thick beard.
Ah, multiculturalism at work! It's a beautiful thing.
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