If everyone worked as hard as I do. Well. Let's just say the world would be a ....different place

8:30 – Arrive at work, ready for the day ahead. Appropriately say hello to fellow co-workers, careful to avoid use of any swear words or racial slurs. Tip-toe out of nerdy conversation about next level nerdy shit, slip into office.

8:40 – Unpack laptop, connect to external monitor for maximum working efficiency. Unpack banana, apple, water and protein gunk for optimum working fuel. Organize desk for maximum feng shui. Stand back and assess levels of feng shui. Disgustedly acknowledge feng shui is at an all time low. Re-organize desk. Note down current bid on Ebay Bonzai Tree.

9:00 – Realize half an hour has been wasted doing nothing of any productive nature, open laptop. Stare at wall.

9:20 – Snap out of trance and open Autocad. Stare at wall.

9:40 – Open Facebook and creep around, beach photos? Yep.

10:00 – Make two lines in Autocad and decide it’s time for a power snack, peel banana and consume.

10:01 – Banana didn’t suffice, eat apple.

10:05 – Stare at wall.

11:30 – Decide to cut my losses. Lunch time, carefully manoeuvre between countless engineers eating ham sandwiches, insert lunch into microwave and set for 3 minutes. Prepare to endure what is considered by myself to be “The Gauntlet of Nerd”.

11:33 – What felt like eternity of stories your own mother would slap you for telling is over, my food is warm enough to suffice. Grab food out of microwave and tactfully evade co-workers without any further eye contact which may lead to verbal communication. Dip back into the safety, tranquility and silence that is my office.

12:00 – Sit in quiet contemplation about how people can live off of ham sandwiches with cheese and mustard on white rye bread for lunch EVERY DAY.

12:15 – Snap out of quiet contemplation acknowledging this is a “first world pain”.

12:20 – Insert headphones, select Armin Van Buuren’s “state of trance”. Work at a pace only explained only by imagining an octopus who has been trained to click mice in a somewhat coherent manner. 7 limbs clicking, 1 limb pressing undo. Progress is made.

3:00 – State of trance ends and so does work.

3:01 – Open Facebook.

3:10 – Stare at wall.

5:00 – Go home, again careful to manoeuvre oneself in a manner which attracts the least amount of attention and possible interaction. After a hard days work I believe I am entitled to leave without having to talk about more work.

5:05 – Drive home content with a hard days work.

I have mixed feelings about wearing spandex and fighting crime

So we all know the tale of Clark Kent - alien dude who looks like a human (first of all, ridiculous, the sheer notion that aliens would look exactly like us is baffling, like really dude it’s called a fucking imagination, you could have made him look like ....wait a second then people would know he’s an alien, plot meltdown, shit). Better stick to those black rimmed eyeglasses as a disguise; I see no flaw in that being the whole disguise. A pair of glasses. Well done superman, well done.

Moving on

So he’s probably the most recognizable superhero, I mean batman’s cool and all but ever since the Dark Knight my feelings towards the bat have gone south, not Bahamas drinking out of a coconut on the beach south. More like headless drug related killings in Mexico south. Mainly due to that ridiculous raspy voice that Christian Bale magically acquires when he dons the bat suit, its super aggravating. To boot he doesn’t even have a super power.

Hypothetical real life situation: Batman and Superman get into an argument (something about someone eating someone else’s Bagel Bites), Batman with his fiery bat-like temper starts getting really riled up. Because he’s a greasy bat person he punches superman right in the clavicle (easy TKO right?)  wrong! He fucking breaks his wrist because he just punched an immovable object. Now he’s super-sitting out the next 6-8 weeks with 2 fractured metacarpals and a shattered proximal phalange. You honestly think Superman would have any respect for that asshole. If I were Superman I’d give that rich mother fucker a super ass whoopin on the regular.

Why don’t you do us all a super favour batman, sit this adventure out. Go get some pizza for the real superheroes you super douche.

Ok so I know this dude, he got stiffed by the man (no homo) and now he’s potentially going to court to get some legal justice. The best part of the whole scenario is that he is totally representing himself. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he has minimal formal legal training. I mean we have all watched some law and order and CSI but I don’t think anyone’s best Grisham impersonation will hold up in court.

Chef by day, Lawyer by mid-afternoon. If anyone has the potential to be a real life superhero it’s this guy. Honestly how many times have you tried to do something that has an almost 100% chance of completely Hiroshima’ing in your face!

Again, going out on a limb here. Probably never!

That’s what makes a real deal super hero. Do you honestly think the first time a superhero put on a colourful spandex costume people were stoked on it? Fuck no. He probably got called all kinds of homo. Did he stop? Fuck no! That shit is MAINSTREAM now. I’m not saying the first superhero was heterosexual, I’m just saying someone clearly stuck to their guns on the spandex situation.  

Spiderman, cool skills and all but he’s such a pussy. The first thing I would do if I could swing from building to building and climb walls and had a 6 pack is dump that Ranga with no soul living next door to me and go wrangle up some serious quality tang. Honestly dude what is wrong with you. I know you’re into science and shit but that’s no excuse for being such a sad wet blanket.

Spawn, now there’s a superhero. No spandex on that mother fucker, just some bionic hell armour that he can make do anything. Rocks a serious cape too, and not one those fruity beach towel get up’s that Superman and Batman are all up on. 

What’s your power Spiderman, could it possibly be the powers that a spider has? NO WAY IT ISSSS!!!!

What’s your power Batman, oh yea we already covered this you are just a super waste of a chair in the justice league headquarters who likes to dress up like a bat.

What’s your power Superman, could it be that your just super at everything? Ding ding ding!!!

Fucking get creative, honestly. Old school nerds have made you comic book makers super rich, what do you have to show for your riches. Probably the three lamest named superheroes any carbon based life forms have ever created. God dammit. (that was a reference to aliens... I totally believe in that shit)

Mulder out.

The rise of the Roller Bag/ Enter the Unibrow/ Return of the Mustache

I’m sure we’ve all crammed onto that 5pm bus after a long day of scholastic bombardment. Eager to share with the world the facts and lessons we have learned. Most well aware that acquiring a seat on this vessel is an exercise in futility. On this brisk Friday afternoon the opportunity arose for many individuals, only to be disregarded like the welfare of a puppy in China town. Why you might ask? Why would so many learned Mohawk College students make this puzzling decision?

Middle Aged Man with a Mustache.

We’ve heard about them, some of us fear them. However we know that they co-exist all around us. Some choosing a life of solitude living in the shadows and gutters of society. Others a life of self righteous pride, refusing to acknowledge and accept the fact that the hair growing on their upper lip sends shivers down the collective spine of women everywhere.

Why though, why does this combination of Carbon, Oxygen, Hydrogen, Nitrogen and Sulphur that plagues the upper lips of men (and some women) have this a(e)ffect (still not sure about that one). Why can’t (for arguments sake lets name him Edwardo Nunes) sport his facial hair of choice and have people willingly sit beside him on his bus ride home. Why do people awkwardly shuffle and sardine each other in the aisle rather than take the chance of sitting beside a potential rapist. Furthermore why did I just assume he is a potential rapist? These are the questions I am sure all of you have, and have wondered ever since that dark haired kid started growing his pube-stache in grade 4. Our public school Sexual education classes did not dignify these questions with even the remotest answers. In fact the only thing I remember about Elementary school sex ed was everyone in the room having to say “penis”. Weird.

Unilateral Eyebrow Growth

Another form of Pili that puzzles me to my very core. I would say 97% of people take some sort of pride in their day to day appearances. We shower, we cut our hair, we even comb our mustaches. However I believe that all of that effort is for nothing if we sport a well defined unilateral brow. I would be the first to admit that my beard can from time to time get a little rowdy, maybe it even offends some small children, this is done not out of spite for the youth of today. This is done because I am lazy, HOWEVER I have never been too lazy to let a unibrow creep out of ambiguity and define my face. Yes, I tend to that shit. All it takes is a couple bucks to get some tweezers and the common sense to know “ok Lloyd, lets not get out of control here. Put down the tweezers” I’m not asking people to get crazy, get wild, and do something crazy. I’m asking them to remove the Pili that have started to grow on the pent house area of their nose. (Imagine your nose is an apartment building, the holes being the basement and the top where it merges with your forehead the penthouse). I like to make analogies like that to help everyone fully grasp what it is I am describing.

I think an example of where someone wasn’t properly spanked as a child would manifest my point a little more clearly in the reader’s cranium. So I’m at Mohawk scorning the goddam flea markets they have decided are the best way to clutter up the already busy halls when I notice a crew of what I would guestimate to be Indian or Pakistani men. Now I have noticed that a “hot” trend with these gentlemen are those dress shoes that extend 3 feet past the end of their actual feet. Not hating, just saying a lot of them are rockin these kinds of shoes. My first quam is that it is just blatant waste, you could make two shoes and a women’s purse out of the material it has taken to make just one of those “stylish”? leather extendo shoes. So anyways these gentlemen are well dressed with their fancy shoes, fancy pants, dress shirts. The whole bit, but one of these suave young men has an almost flawless seemingly cultivated Unilateral Eyebrow. Now if you’re wondering if I stared, I did. Shamelessly. Now I just wanted to ask him, why go to all this trouble and expense to put all your fancy apparel on when no one is going to notice you have anything below your neck because they are going to be fixated on that tuft of dark shiny penthouse of the nose hair!!!

Roller Bags.

Fuckin, roller bags. I understand that bags get heavy, believe me I rock a heavy bag situation on the reg. Not bragging, just saying it’s really heavy. Like I don’t think most people could lift it. Anyways the sudden and altogether disappointing rise of the roller bag amongst post secondary students is alarming to say the least. If you’re 64, retired and have decided to come take some voluntary courses for shits and gigs and you run the roller scene I am completely behind you. Your osteoporosis is a real issue and I don’t want to see an old lady blow out her ankle on the 2^nd step only to tumble down the next 6. That would fuckin ruin my day. But if you’re 20 years old and despite your best efforts still relatively healthy you better put those straps around your shoulders. The biggest difficulty and issue in your day should NOT be troubleshooting how to get your roller bag from the bottom of the stairs to the top of the stairs, or vice versa. Nothing will promote you getting body checked headfirst into the brick wall faster than getting in my way at 9am while trying to get your roller bag to defy Newton’s laws and climb the steps. Maybe it is that quality alone that has derived such a hate for the bag with wheels, the fact that you don’t have to have a bag on your back ever, and when it comes time to lift it for 6 steps, you would rather try and drag it up. This has officially turned into a rant where I am directly referring to about 5 people at Mohawk. Come on, come on. I’m going to start kicking your roller bags off their rollers. I can’t imagine the brain strain trying to troubleshoot getting those things back on their wheels would cause you.

Get serious, get a real bag, tweeze your uni-brows and take care of those mustaches.

Love Lloyd.

I'm in the market for a large quantity of high end sparklers.

Due to impending scholastic examinations I will be unable to write at length a blog entry, however I believe it pertinent to the success of said blog to update at this time.

So I’ve been wondering, “where did the business plan go wrong?”

Institute sounds safe and legitimate, divine sounds like magic or hoopla you won’t be able to explain , metaphysical just sounds like next level religious shit, and research makes it sound learned and real. However the Institute has been closed every time I have walked past it for the past couple months. What is going on in the world, even people with brilliant ideas like this presented take on religion can’t get a solid footing. I guarantee you, you introduce this shit 10 years ago before facebook and twitter and The Institute of Divine Metaphysical Research would have the Pope trembling in/under his Pope hat.  

I would be willing to wager money that at least 7 Mormon’s, 3 Jehovah’s Witnesses and a Scientologist have walked past this place and has said “Hah! What kind of a fool would buy into this garbage!” the Mormons would finish that statement with “They clearly haven’t heard the good word!” Followed by straightening of their ties, optimal adjustment of their stock flat-black backpacks, a quick double check of their jesus loves you smiles in the reflection. On they will march down their road of truth and righteousness.  

I was going to go into more depth about The Institute of Divine Metaphysical Research, but after some google work and a couple tangents into scientology sites because they are comical I decided that the title of this “religion” speaks for itself. Enough said.

This could be considered a warning, or a promise. Depends.

Before my time at Mohawk comes to an end I will full speed 100% effort Bill Goldberg circa classic turn of the millennium  WCW winning streak resulting in a 173-1 combined record spear the final person who completes those infuriating but all too common hall blocking groupings of stupidity. Immediately following the spear I will quickly assess the damage inflicted on chosen moron. If I deem it necessary I will then complete one Bill Goldberg circa classic turn of the millenium WCW JackHammer finishing manoeuvres on said moron. Finally, and most importantly, I will look at the rest of the grouping of hall blocking retards and in my deepest, most Bill Goldberg-esque voice say “Who’s next?”  I’m toying with the use of sparklers for dramatic effect, not sure what the Mohawk fire code is though. Will consult with Mohawk personnel soon and update accordingly.

Training commences immediately.

A Velcro Renaissance

Welcome

Got two fairly polarizing topics I want to discuss today.

First off we have jersey shore.

You either love it, or you think those 8 retards are the root of most evil on earth. Personally I love that shit. I’m not disputing the fact that they all suffer from mild to severe mental retardation (probably linked to exponentially higher rates of exposure to U.V. rays than the average person is supposed to ...expose themselves to in a lifetime). The fact is if you take it for what it is, it’s hilarious, it’s random, pointless, and everything I love about TV and modern media in general.

So my point is, if you hate it that’s cool I’m not about to bust into your room with my bedazzled Ed Hardy iPhone playing obnoxious party beats wearing a tight bedazzled Ed Hardy V-neck T-shirt, with a bedazzled heavily curved sideways tilted AND twisted Ed Hardy hat, with slightly less bedazzled but no less obnoxious Ed Hardy shoes with some expensive brand of obnoxious jeans. I’m not sure if Ed is bedazzling jeans for the mainstream yet?

POINT BEING, stop being Kim Jong-il when I tell you I watch that shit like I just pee’d on the grave of Kim Il-sung...I know you don’t get the reference, google it.

Velcro shoes.

I had a pair, you had a pair. At the time it was socially acceptable to wear Velcro shoes I was a newly settled immigrant from a far off land called AFRICA. Great country, google it. My family did not have the fashionable knowledge or maybe the expendable income to be suiting up their son with the Velcro shoes with little lights in the bottoms that lit up with each naive young step I hypothetically would have been taking. I loved mine nonetheless.

I loved them until that inevitable, yet horrid day when I was told I had to be a big boy and spend what felt like an eternity tying a bow to solve the same problem that Velcro solved in AT LEAST 1/3 the time. First of all I want to talk about regret, regret that I didn’t say “Fuck that and fuck you! Velcro is the shit!” Problem being my sister hadn’t taught me those swears yet.

So my question to you is: Why isn’t Velcro cool? It’s practical, easy, fast, stylish as SHIT. Would people think I’m a retard if I wore them?

Real Talk

If I have to tie a fucking bow with two pieces of string for you to not think I’m a retard then I think we all need to raise the bar.

Finally I’d like to throw down a couple shout outs to people I saw today at Mohawk (I was there all day)

1.)    To the middle aged Asian lady wearing her jacket like a cape – I still want to be a super hero too

2.)    To the guy on the bus dressed like Jay Sean – Your doing a great job, good use of accessorizing

3.)    To the big ol’ girl on her cell phone pushing through the bus line like we were carrots in the way of chocolate cake – You’re a barbarian and I wish the worst upon you

4.)    To the Indian guy in my math class who’s cell phone went off with an authentic Indian music ring tone – Way to represent brother, don’t stress the entire class + teacher bursting out in laughter

5.)    To the guy in line for Subway who looked like Ronnie from J. Shore – Unreal, I think your episode is coming up tomorrow night prepare to be a celebrity brother.

6.)    To the guy who refuses to accept the fact that it is winter and you shouldn’t be wearing shorts anymore – If I were you bro I’d be jumping through hoops to find ANY way to cover up those cankles. As well take off the sunglass lenses you wear over your eyeglasses when you’re inside, they aren’t functioning like Kanye West’s $1000 sunglasses that he wears inside. God dammit man do you ever want to lose your virginity?

Bye.

Here's to you Sit Down Bike Guy

Sit down bike guy

Sit down bike guy, where do I begin? With your sit down bike? Your tenacious spirit? You’re a legend, we have never spoken and I doubt we ever will. I wrote this tribute to you while at school today, and as I pulled onto my street on the way home you were waiting on the corner, your orange goggles glistening in the sombre afternoon light, your detachable mini rear view mirror angled just enough for you to protect your rear end from  rear ending.

No this isn’t a love note to my hero. More a tribute to someone with the eye of the tiger, a wolf pack of one. A true visionary for the future of seated bicycle transportation.  

You may well be wondering who SDBG is and well, that’s a valid question. I’m sure in your travels you’ve seen at least one sit down bike. They are those more efficient and ergonomic, super stylish bikes where you sit back and cruise like Bobby did in “Bobby’s World” on his tricycle. You may be saying “so what, he rides a sit down bike, I learned to ride a bike with 2 wheels when I was 5” and I would respond to you “you best watch your goddam mouth when you talk about SDBG”

It’s the conditions that SDBG rides his vehicle of choice in that makes him a true living Hamilton icon and legend. The many nights I sit at the dinner table mowing down watching the real life soap opera that is “The streets of Hamilton”. I would guestimate the highest per capita ratio of Rascal scooter users in Ontario if not the world, the inexplicably high amount of ambulances and other emergency response vehicles being called to almost every building but my own, the young mothers in their Fubu apparel pushing their babies strollers lost in thought as to who their baby daddy might be. Sure enough, come rain, shine, snowstorm or santa clause parade SDBG will come zooming down the street making his token crossing of the busy 3 lane street. To be honest I don’t even think he looks left AND right for cars, it has nothing to do with it being a one way street either..he’s just that badass.

What sparked the necessity for me to share the exploits of SDBG happened yesterday. The day after the biggest snowfall Hamilton has seen yet this year, sure enough out of the hazardous conditions emerged none other than SIT DOWN BIKE GUY! Not fazed by the adverse conditions that many drivers feared and shied away from, SDBG came barrelling through the snow with ease not with tank treads or some other traction aid no. Just with cahonies the size of beach balls and quadriceps the diameter of the average mans waist.

Let’s all take a moment to admire sit down bike guy for the inspiration he is. Sending the message that any Hamilton resident no matter how insane, homeless or steel worker can be a true success.

Cheers to you sit down bike guy

Your fan

Lloyd.

Highway to the Dangerzone

Maverick, Goose, Iceman three names you may associate with one of the greatest cinematic productions of all time. I’m assuming that all 3 of you who read this have seen top gun so I’m not going to dilly dally on the finer details of plot, call-signs, frosted tips and other components of the movie that will be vital going forward.

Drove home in some pretty adverse conditions Thursday and saw that gnarly diagonal snow plough truck line they make to clear the highways in one fell swoop. Instead of focusing on the snow, the high volume of traffic or the multitude of other dangers I was surrounded by. I started to think about Tom Cruise (no homo).

 People take for granted Tom Cruises exploits in Top Gun. One word people, VAL KILMER. I’d love to see you confidently compete against “The” Val Kilmer, say what you want about his current cinematic status or his fat-ass performance in Heat where he was fat with a pseudo p-tail. The guy was fucking batman, and not the new age “omg best movie ever” Dark Knight. I’m talking the batman who was so bad-ass he couldn’t even move his head. That shit was statuesque, there is nothing more dramatic then turning to look at someone with ones entire body. I urge you to try it in your next business or job related interaction, you will love the results. Back to said Gun. Val Kilmer had his shit together in Top Gun. The man was able to keep his tips frosted while out at sea on a navy aircraft carrier. I can’t even grow hair on 20% of my head, let alone sustain a high maintenance arguably still “in style” frosted tip spikey do. He never even got helmet hair.

FACT! If all 7 billion people in the world stood shoulder to shoulder we would take up a space the size of Los Angeles. BANK IT.

All I’m saying is I think Tom Cruise deserves a little more recognition for his work in his F-14A Tomcat. You try and do corkscrews and barrel rolls and shit, come to think of it you probably don’t even have an F-14A Tomcat. You should probably stick with the snow plough driving dream, like I am.

So, without further useless jibber jabber

The top gun of snow plough truck driving is clearly the dudes who roll in squadrons of 2-8 to clear those vital highways so we can get our Toyota prius’s home for dinner. I firmly believe that they too have call signs and follow very similar lifestyles to afore mentioned Top Gun fighter pilots. Rigorous physical and mental training, and of course the most important component of either top tier professions

 CALL SIGNS.

 Some call signs I believe were the first taken by these Top Gun snow ploughers  include: Icepick, Flashfreeze, Rustyshovel, Salt, Blackice, and Blizzard....I guess there was a Top Gun movie fan who picked Iceman, but that’s like calling me Lloyd Christmas..not cool.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8rZWw9HE7o