Wednesday, January 31, 2007


Hi, I am attending the Ontario Library Association Conference. It commenced this evening, after an all-day meeting. I might be able to post from the conference, but I am not sure. Leave a message and I'll get back to you later.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Five Things You Probably Don't Know About Me

Accepting Zenfo Pro's open tag:

( 1 ) My Grandfather died on my 17th Birthday

I am surprised he lasted that long. He wasted half of his life sitting in his smelly brown chair watching inane daytime television or reading Playboy magazine. Sure, he could walk to the bathroom, lower himself on the seat to relieve himself, and make it back to his safe chair before his lungs failed him. Years of smoking turned him into a yellowed, sarcastic, cynical, emphysemic, cranky, argumentative old man. I resisted the urge to give him a lesson in photosynthesis whenever he complained that the plants were stealing his oxygen. Eventually, he had them all removed and all that remained were plastic house plants that gathered dust while he sat in the chair enveloped by stale air until he died.

( 2 ) I haven't had a beer or pizza in 8 or 9 years

I have Celiac Disease, a condition that can only be managed by a gluten-free diet. That means, no wheat, rye, barley, oats, or derivatives, even if present in trace amounts. Many food additives, like excipients, binders, fillers, natural flavours, and modified starches contain gluten. It also rules out anything deep-fried in the same oil that was used for breaded items. The good news is that I love red wine and cider.

( 3 ) I have a tattoo

Who doesn't?

( 4 ) When I was a teenager, I thought Bruce Springsteen was God

Many people think that Todd is God but, for me, it was Bruce. Keith & I bought scalped tickets and drove to Toronto to see him in concert in 1985. We were as far back at the Ex as you could get, and Bruce looked to be about the size of an ant. I have an enormous Springsteen vinyl collection dating back to that time. After years of not listening to him, I have put a couple of things back into rotation, but this may be more of a nostalgia thing. I think his first two albums are still really good, and I have heard the Seeger Sessions and Devils and Dust which are OK. I honestly believe that Born in the U.S.A. stinks. It is his worst album.

(5) I have played pool with Mary Margaret O'Hara

I have also met and spoken with: Billy Bragg, Graeme Gibson, Margaret Atwood, Douglas Coupland, Timothy Findley, P.D. James, Wayne Johnston, Henry Winkler, M.G. Vassanji, Nino Ricci, Al Purdy, Patrick Lane, Catherine Bush, Kate Bush (OK, so I saw her in person, but did not speak to her), Lorna Crozier, Kerri Sakamoto, Robertson Davies, Jack Layton, Michael Winter, Al Moritz, Paul Quarrington, Tim Vesely, Dave Bidini, Martin Tielli, John Ralston Saul, Richard B. Wright, George Elliot Clarke, Kristen Hersh, Chuck Cleaver, Stephen Page, and Nick Valentino. I am missing a few, I am sure.

Oh, and if you like this meme, do it yourself.

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Monday, January 29, 2007


I went back to that Imagination Prompt Generator and was asked:

"List the jobs you've had during your life."

1) Window cleaner, for three days, age 9ish
2) Lawn cutter, for an ancient, asthmatic man, age 12, or so
3) General helper for a family friend and pedophile at a community centre, age 13
4) Farm labourer (bailing hay, straw, driving a tractor), age 16, 17, & 18ish
5) Tree planter
6) Bartender, waiter, bellhop, busboy, dishwasher, cashier, short-order cook etc, at a hotel, age 21, 22
7) Credit investigator, credit analyst
8) Teaching assistant
9) Research assistant
10) Curator
11) Computer Lab Advisor
12) Library assistant
13) Information Specialist
14) Librarian

And, here are the jobs I would like to do before I die:

1) Movie star
2) Billionaire
3) Elvis impersonator
4) Astronaut
5) Talk Show Host
6) Radio DJ
7) VJ on MTV or Much Music

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Friday, January 26, 2007


Well, for better or worse, I just switched to the new version of Blogger, after weeks of Blogger telling me that I cannot switch. It is finally done. Later, I will apply a new template and mess around with all of the much-promised features, like labels.

I am not sure if I should abandon Technorati tags or keep them. Technorati tags are not very user-friendly, but they have some benefits.

I already have two positive things to report. The Blogger spellchecker finally includes the words blog, blogs, and blogging. It's about effing time. And, I no longer have to pass through word verification when commenting on my own blog. If you ask me, we ought to be able to make a "trusted list" of users who we will let skip the word verification step. I trust a few of you.

Have a great weekend.

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Thursday, January 25, 2007


Running 42K hates pizza-folders. It's hilarious, but probably a bit obsessive-compulsive, if you ask me :-) Notice that I added a nice emoticon after that statement, so as not to be misinterpreted. My recent comment on this post was misinterpreted as being sarcastic. I am not sure why anyone would assume that I am sarcastic. I'm not sarcastic - not at all. Never have been; never will be. Sarcasm and me are antithetical. Trust me. I hate sarcasm.

Anyway, Ann May Won't thought I was sarcastic and it spread through blogland like a wild fire. Soon, Hemlock posted that I chose "to poo-poo the optimistic projection for Sagittarius in 2007." Never would I do that! After all, Sagittarians are the most optimistic of the signs. We are insanely optimistic. In fact, most of us believe that we will never die, that we will encounter good luck and good fortune our whole lives through, and that we will always have a steady supply of chocolate and red wine. We should be called Optimisticarians.

On the downside, Britney Spears is a Sag and, what's worse, she shares my birthday. Of all the celebrities to share a birthday with, I get Britney Spears. If I had to choose a celebrity to share a birthday with, it would be David Schwimmer. There's no question about that.

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Wednesday, January 24, 2007


Yup, this is me. My sister snapped this photo with a Kodak EK-2, better known as The Handle. It was a Polaroid clone, and was soon off the market when Kodak lost a lawsuit. The photo has faded over time, and I had to do quite a lot of reconstruction to get it to look as good as it does. Of course, having me in the photo really improves the scenery :-) Please note the bell bottoms pants. They were once de rigueur.

According to Bizarre News, January 24 is Eskimo Pie Patent Day! Yesterday was national (I am assuming in the USA only) National Handwriting Day, National Pie Day, and Measure Your Feet Day.

I did none of the above. My handwriting is so bad, I can barely read it. I have had to ask people to try to figure out what I wrote. The other problem is that I am far too cryptic. Just recently I wrote "blog - fruit." Clearly, this was an idea for a blog post, but I have no idea what I meant.

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Tuesday, January 23, 2007

The Boston Molasses Disaster and other Curiosities

In 1919, a tank in a candy factory in Boston exploded, sending a large wave of molasses down the street. By the time the sticky tidal wave subsided, 21 people were dead.

In 1850, President Zachary Taylor died following five days of indigestion after gorging himself on cherries and iced milk.

A mine fire has been burning beneath Centralia, Pennsylvania since 1962.

Fucking, Austria got it's name in 1070, from a chap named Focko.

Year 10,000 problem. Y2K in is the past. We can look forward to this.

Chrysippus, a Greek philosopher, apparently died of laughter while observing a drunk donkey attempting to eat figs.

The Emerald Cockroach Wasp stings a cockroach twice to slow it down and to disable its escape reflex. It then mounts the roach and "drives" it to a secure place using the roach's antennae, where it lays an egg in the roach. The larva eats the roach from inside out.

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Monday, January 22, 2007

The Devil and Daniel Johnston

If you haven't see the film The Devil and Daniel Johnston, you really should. It is one of the most fascinating documentaries I have ever seen. Johnston is a singer, songwriter, musician, and artist who suffers from "bipolar disorder with psychotic features and religious preoccupation to the point where he has had to be hospitalized intermittently..." (from Wikipedia entry).

His songs have been covered by Beck, Sonic Youth, Wilco, Pearl Jam, The Flaming Lips, etc., while people like David Bowie, Kurt Cobain, and Matt Groening have praised his work.

One thing that really fascinated me was that the man was an obsessive documenter of his life. And, the film makes good use of his old films and taped conversations. I remember taping conversations when I was a kid, and now I wish I had kept them.

Borrow, buy, rent or steal the film. OK, don't steal it, but definitely see it. If you don't like it, I'll give you your money back. OK, so I really wouldn't give you your money back, but I would commiserate with you about the money you might have spent and the time you wasted sitting in front of your TV or computer.

What are you waiting for? Go see it! Now. Run.

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Be Right Back ...

I'm off to a meeting. I'll be back sometime, I hope. Maybe I'll even have something to say.

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Friday, January 19, 2007

What did you do before we had the Internet?

I just checked out that Imagination Prompt Generator, which I read about on Canadian Hemlock's blog. It asked this question: What did you do before we had the Internet?. That's a good one.

1) Before I had a blog, I kept a handwritten journal. Although I stopped writing in it three or four years ago, there are 32 volumes totaling more than 7000 pages, most of it boring, some of it inane, and much of it embarrassing.

2) I watched more television. I am not sure if I watch less TV because of the Internet, or simply because there are fewer interesting shows on right now.

3) I wrote more poetry. Seriously. I have given that up. I did have a few poems published in some campus literary journals, but I never really knew if they were any good. Speaking of which, some day I should post the poem that started it all. It is called Zydeco Fish. It was published in one of those campus journals. Maybe I'll post it on this blog's tenth anniversary. See you here on July 11, 2013.

4) I spent more time in coffee shops.

How about you?

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Thursday, January 18, 2007

A Cycling Rant

As cyclists normally do, I was cycling in the curb lane, next to the curb. Cyclists do this because:

1) It is safer than cycling down the middle of a lane.
2) It is safer than cycling in the centre lane.
3) We normally travel slower than cars.
4) Bike lanes are constructed next to the curb.
5) The rules of the road for cyclists dictate that we ride at the curb. In fact, cars are required to give a cyclist the whole lane, if necessary.

We pass cars and trucks on the right hand side because the roads are wide enough - in most cases - to accommodate that. Usually, we pass cars on the right when vehicles have queued up for a traffic light (but sometimes, we are faster than vehicles).

This morning, as I approached a traffic light, I noticed several cars waiting. As is the practice of most cyclists, I planned to cycle past the waiting cars when the rear door of a cab flew open, and some guy started to step out.

I said: "Whoooa!"

He said: "That's why you're not supposed to pass cars on the right!"

I said: "That's why you're supposed to look for cyclists!"

I neglected to tell him that many cabs do, in fact, have window stickers reminding passengers to check for bikes.

He went on, quite forcibly: "You are not supposed to pass cars on the right because it is illegal!"

I said: "That's where cyclists ride. We ride at the curb." I went on about how it looked as though the cab was waiting for the traffic signal. I told him that there was a car directly in front of the cab, also waiting for the light.

But, more importantly:

1) The cab did not pull over (had it done so, I would have passed on the left).
2) The cab driver did not signal (had he done so, I would have passed on the left).

So, dude with the grey beard threw a few more sentences my way, and I left, but not before I told him that I was not angry with him. I wanted to add that I was angry with the driver for failing to signal or pull over. But, even having thought that, it was obvious that the cab driver knew I was there because he did not pull over: he left me room to get by, and Mr. Grey Beard failed to check for bicycles. He blew up because he was embarrassed.

And now, I must do some work.

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Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Fallen Comrade

The colleague deemed most likely to go postal, has left the building, but not without first unleashing a venomous 3500 word email in which he criticized the administration, his bosses, and some colleagues. D - a colleague - later informed me that this type of letter is known as a Fallen Comrade Letter. Feeling that they are unjustly terminated, these disgruntled employees attack everyone and everything, trying to put the blame somewhere else, rather than looking closely and objectively at the situation. The military image even holds up in his letter, when he writes: "...I concede defeat and so leave the field of battle."

The most irritating thing is that he argued that his employment came to an end because he is gay, an assertion that is absolute nonsense. At the time he worked here, 50% of the male librarians were gay. The actual number may be either 45% or 55%, but I have excluded one fellow, whose sexuality is so ambiguous, he might well be a castrato, but that is another story.

The librarian profession is so filled with gayness (and there is nothing wrong with that), people assume that I am gay. Those who know otherwise, naturally assume that I must be bi-sexual. I am not sure if this is because of some sort of latent metrosexuality or an assumption that only gay men work in this profession, once described as the pink collar ghetto. I am not sure, but this comrade's arguments are completely without merit.

To him, I say: Good night and good luck.

Currently listening to: 1-Speed Bike - Droopy Butt Begone. It's very cool.

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Tuesday, January 16, 2007


So, nine months after I invited people to ask me questions, I am almost finished with the answers. Cooper asked me:

boxers, briefs or thongs?

Before I give away the answer, I'd like to run a poll. Please choose from the options below:

a) ZF wears briefs
b) ZF wears boxers
c) ZF wears boxer briefs
d) ZF wears thongs
e) ZF goes commando

Here are some hints. Don't forget that my dad wears a thong bathing suit from time to time. Also remember that I am part Scottish.

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Monday, January 15, 2007

So, Maybe I Complain too Much (and a comment on Iraq)

Today, many of us woke up to ice pellets, snow-covered ground, and forecasts (I actually typed forecats, which is something entirely different) of freezing rain. I even had to do a bit of shoveling for the first time this winter.

I think I am getting old, because I elected not to cycle today. Instead, I crammed myself into the subway system and got a little too close to way too many people. I was so close to some guy, I could have counted the hair follicles on his face. He missed a few spots, but I decided not to tell him. There was a woman, stuffed into a seat applying eyeliner. I posted about the public application of makeup in the past. It never ceases to amaze me.

Anyway, I prefer cycling out in the fresh air. I know, Toronto's air is not that fresh, but it is better than breathing in someone else's aftershave or perfume at 8:00 A.M.

I notice that the Iraqi government bungled another execution. They managed to decapitate Hussein's half brother in the course of hanging him. I hope Bush is happy that he got his man, after an expensive and pointless war that has made the entire region worse off, to the farcical trial and botched executions.

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Friday, January 12, 2007

Two Hours Later ...

Phew, I just got out of a two hour meeting concerning contract negotiations. We were discussing the finer points of promotion and salary. And, it occurred to me - once again - that meetings ought to be limited to one hour. In fact, I prefer power meetings that are 30 minutes or less. In fact, I prefer meetings in which business is conducted in hallways, by the microwave oven, or the fridge (we don't have a water cooler). I think you can accomplish so much while your leftovers are reheating.

It also occurred to me - once again - that I made the wrong career choice. I can trace this back to High School. Instead of joining the Cross Country Team and the Track & Field Team, I should have joined the soccer team. Mr. Posh Spice will be raking in almost $1,000,000 US per week. Maybe it's not too late to change careers. I can kick a soccer ball and I am still in good shape. How hard can it be?

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Thursday, January 11, 2007

Finally, More Answers (and It's Delurking Week)

Toryssa asked:

How old are you? And how old are your kids? And what's the last book you read?

1) How old am I? That is highly confidential. I think the Official Secrets Act prevents me from revealing that data. Wait, wasn't the name of the act changed to The Security of Information Act? In any case, my lips are sealed.

2) 5.5 years & 20 months. Both are far cuter than I am.

3) Shite's Unoriginal Miscellany. Hey, it's funny and educational. Of course, many would argue that it is a lame and unsuccessful parody of Schott's Original Miscellany, and I think they would be correct. Still, I did laugh a few times.

Update: I just read that it is delurking week. So, all of you lurkers, please delurk.

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Wednesday, January 10, 2007

How to Fix Basketball

I'm not suggesting that basketball is really broken, but simply that it could be improved. I don't even watch basketball, or football, or sports of any kind - except the Olympics - although I used to. I'd watch hockey and baseball and football. But who has time to sit for three or four hours in front of the TV watching guys slap each other on the ass? I did watch parts of the World Cup, however, which included Bloody Marys and snacks and too many people in a small room.

Years ago, I was listening to Finkleman's 45s. I can't take any credit for finding this radio program or for even being a fan. K listened to it, and I was listening along one evening. Usually, Danny had a lot to say about coffee, and whether it was good for you or not. Every week, a new coffee study was released, and he gave us the good or bad news. The show could have been called the Coffee Show. Of course, I drank coffee back then, lots of coffee with lots of caffeine, unlike now. I drink decaf every now and then. I know it's probably uncool, but do I look like I care?

One day, after a survey of the recent coffee news, Danny offered three options for improving basketball. He said, and I paraphrase:

1) Start each team at 100 points, and let them play for 10 minutes;
2) Raise the height of the baskets to something like 15 feet, from the current 10 feet;
3) Enforce an average height limit on each team. This means that you could have a very tall player, but it would have to be balanced out by some shorter guys, the kind you might see in a circus or sideshow.

I have another idea:

Reduce the points awarded for slam dunks from 2 to 1. Let's not forget that James Naismith, the Canadian doctor who invented the sport, argued that the baskets ought to be high enough to prevent a player from simply pushing the ball through from above. Well, that idea failed badly.

The slam dunk just seems too easy, especially if one is tall enough. Throwing the ball requires more skill. After all, they award free throws, not free dunks, because throwing the ball in the basket is obviously harder than stuffing it in from above. By the way, when I was in high school I could touch the rim!

So, in summary, I would like the NBA to award 1 point from slam dunks (and maybe even for lay ups), 2 points for a basket, and 3 points for shots beyond the arch. Maybe they could even award 4 points for shots taken past half court.

The sad truth is, I still would not watch the game.

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Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Keyword Mayhem, Part 5

OK, so here is a new list of keywords that people have used to get here. Some of them are truly bizarre and perplexing. My concern is not so much why they ended up here with these search terms, but why on earth are they searching for these things? Someone tell me, please.

picture of a hot men wearing a speedo: my dad, evidently - shudder.

steak and kidney pie is nasty: agreed

fungus pee: say what?

how to eat a banana: isn't it obvious?

diapers on train in china: yup, I have a whole post on that!

japanese adult diapers: who know, the man (or woman) might have a problem

edible petroleum: there's nothing finer than edible oil products. Mmmmm.

the moose is on the loose elliot: I hate this theme song, and I am stunned that this is probably the most common search term people use to find this blog. People want the lyrics, even though they are crystal clear and inane .

Why do people think librarians are mean?: who thinks that? I am a nice guy.

shirley olympic hurdles smoke: What?

we killed marian the librarian: believe me, she is not dead.

"only one valid reason to drink or use milk": as far as I am concerned, there is no good reason, but I have been through that before.

stupid stores toronto: I could name a few.

fish lost appetite: it will soon die, I suppose.

drink milk boob: fetish, maybe?

whorish makeup: fetish, maybe?

peeing in pool water turns purple: all kiddie pools have pee in them. Get over it.

sister sucks her younger brother's penis: honestly, I never said anything of the sort. Must be a case of a bad retrieval.

Zydeco Clothes: I wear them everyday.

"erect nipples video": obviously, a guy entered this search term.

book report on - on my honor by marion dane bauer: someone trying to plagiarize?

lithuania deodorant: huh?

nude OR naked "lost bet" -casino: strip poker?

"an elderly gay man": Hmmmmm, looking for a date?

nympho librarian: that's not me, and I don't know of any.

sexy filipina: not me either, and I don't know of any.

the difference between white trash and redneck: Well, my brother is whitetrash.

closer bone sweeter meat: Pervert!

i hate getting paid monthly: who doesn't?

princeton rub: yes, I did mention that once.

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Monday, January 08, 2007

And Still no Snow in Toronto

If you haven't seen An Inconvenient Truth, you should. If you haven't seen The End of Suburbia, you should. Just don't watch them back-to-back; that would be far too depressing.

I recommend Al Gore's film just based on the fact that it demonstrates the most outstanding use of PowerPoint I have ever seen. Too many people make such atrocious use of PowerPoint, it should be - in the hands of these people - renamed RedundantPoint or BoringPoint. Al does it correctly.

You know what I am talking about: someone at a conference or a presentation projects slides full of text. You read each in a few seconds, and then you have to wait for them to read it. Boring, boring, boring.

Anyway, while the cycling guy in me is loving this winter, I am feeling really sad for the polar bears. A huge chunk of Ellesmere Island just broke off. It is 3 degrees in Toronto, heading up to 5 degrees later today. And, there is not a flake of snow in sight.

I really hope this winter will convince those jokers (notably Stephen Harper and George Bush) to do something, like ratify the Kyoto Accord. That would be a nice thing to do before part of Manhattan is flooded.

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Friday, January 05, 2007

Trapped in the Women's Washroom: A True Story (or, finally, I have finished this post)

I think it was Edmunston, New Brunswick on the drive back from a soggy camping trip, during which I camped in the rain in all three maritime provinces. Forget rain dances or cloud seeding: if you want rain, just hire me to go camping where you want it to fall. I am rain man.

By Edmunston, my bladder needed relief, so we (A and I) pulled up to some sort of a mall-like place and headed in. This was long enough ago that I cannot remember the name of the store, but it was something like Zellers or K-mart. Anyway, we found the washrooms easily enough, but they were locked and a notice said that we had to ask to be buzzed in. Just as I was about to ask the attendant, A said, "just come into the women's washroom."

I am not sure why that sounded like a good idea. I must have assumed that this would have been a small washroom with one stall. Later, I wondered if it had to do with a childhood experience. When I was 12 or 13, I had a part-time job doing some custodial work for a local idiot. I tidied up, emptied ash trays (that skill came in very handy when I later worked as a bartender), and some other mundane tasks.

The highlight came when I went into the women's washroom after some event. What a palace! The men's room can only be described as dirty, ugly, utilitarian, and boring. You know, there were urinals, toilets, sinks, paper towels, mirrors, etc. In contrast, the women's washroom had bizarre dispensers on the wall, better colours, and get this - a sofa! I had never seen a sofa in a washroom before. What luxury. What decadence. Even at that age, I knew that women tended to go to the can in herds, and now I knew why. They sat on the sofa and lounged.

You see, that would never work in a men's room (for many reasons). Besides, no one wants to linger too long in a men's washroom. There is too much risk of an overt attack on one's olfactory nerve.

Years later, I wondered if I went into the women's bathroom to verify that there is some serious inequities in washrooms. In all of those years, I have never encountered anything that could be described as luxury in a men's washroom. Well, there were those few washroom attendants who hand you towels, but I always felt sorry for them, having to sit there listening to men fart and groan.

So, I went in and was amazed to discover a huge washroom, complete with about 10 stalls, half a dozen sinks, but, sadly, no sofa or chair of any variety. This was New Brunswick, so maybe that was the reason. Clearly, there are no urinals in female restrooms, so I choose a stall, dropped my pants, and then, before I could even start, about ten women came in. There I was, pants around my ankles, afraid to go, fearing that the sound of masculine micturition would give away my gender, when I had already done so, by dropping my drawers. Women, I found out later, do not do that: they only pull them part way down. Who knew?

Eventually, I had to go, and managed to keep it quiet. The trouble was, there was a constant stream of women coming in, and I panicked that I would never be able to leave. A loitered in front of the mirror, waiting for a good time to usher me out of my temporary prison. After half an hour, or so it seemed, she gave the all-clear. We walked to the door, and opened it, just as a large group of women flooded in. We got very strange looks and one women looked so perplexed, I thought she would summon security, so I fled as fast as I could - without looking like a shoplifter - to the Volkswagen in the parking lot.

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Thursday, January 04, 2007

My Pants are Falling Down

I am now boycotting Gap & Old Navy denim (I should have done this ages ago when I heard about The Gap and slave labour). I remember, back in the day when I was concerned about the appearance of my ass, always worrying about whether the denim I was about to purchase would shrink, and by how much. These were key issues in my younger days. After purchasing jeans from The Gap & Old Navy, I find myself wondering just how much they will stretch.

A few days after I had first purchased this inferior denim, I thought I had suddenly dropped ten pounds. They hung down around my ass like those hip hop guys, exposing the waistband of my underwear. I kept pulling them up, worrying that they would fall off while I was standing in front of a class of undergrads discussing searching techniques. Then, I put on another pair of my pants, and they fit fine. It was like I was in that episode of M*A*S*H*. You know the one.

The next time I bought jeans from The Gap, the same thing happened. I tried them on; they fit; then, they stretched all to hell. I clued in after that and I bought the next pair two sizes too small so I could stretch into them. The problem is, that pair had a kind of distressed look. A small imperfection suddenly grew into an enormous hole only after a few weeks.

That's it for me and jeans from these awful stores.

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Wednesday, January 03, 2007

The Best of Zydeco Fish 2006
(read best of 2005)

It may seem a bit ridiculous to recap 2006, since it was almost a non-blogging year. I did blog, but with great gaps between posts and far fewer posts than usual. I was even called a twit once! Such strong language from the right wing; it almost makes me blush.

So, here it is - my top five posts of 2006:

1) The End of Bathing - I have re-written this and made it much longer, but I am not sure when it will be ready for public viewing.

2) The Paranoid Side Step - I am feeling nostalgic recently about lots of stuff, including music. That might have prompted this post.

3) I have to Ask Myself - On Christmas trees and my family. I think I chose this post because of the photo :-)

4) An Open Letter to Jacob Richler - Because I am an avid cyclist.

5) Untitled - Perhaps the best post ever...

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