In the spirit of the season...

Happy Halloween!

Anyway... Humouroceros

Signs of a rebel

I was driving around yesterday looking for some special hooks with which to hang my 48-foot extension ladder (no luck so far but I’ll keep you posted). I was tailgated down the high-way by a guy following me so close that all I could see was the Confederate flag imprinted on the front grill of his truck. This got me thinking; what are the most popular symbols of those zany and wacky folks out there who consider themselves to be rebels? I brainstormed for the optimal five minutes (as suggested in the Big Book Of Brainstorming) and this is what I came up with:

The Confederate flag - This one is obvious because those folks who don’t think too clear probably just look at the colours and the design (those Confederate flag designers won international awards back in the 1860s for the design – a little known fact) and that is probably as far as they take it. The old ‘it’s good enough for the Dukes Of Hazzard it’s good enough for me’ syndrome rears it’s ugly head here. I guess if you don’t think about the racism or the slavery aspects of the Confederacy, it’s all good. This is actually not the official flag of the Confederate States of America but rather the Confederate Naval Ensign (as we all know the Confederate navy consisted of one big metal boat {either the Monitor or the Merrimac, depending on how good your memory is}, three canoes and a raft.)

Che Guevara – The guy’s been dead for almost forty years and some still look to him as a symbol of rebellion, which he was I suppose but does that mean that forty years from now some folks will be wearing Osama t-shirts? Something else is just think about what Che’s reaction would be if he know about who was wearing his image or using it in some other way today. Bands use it, fat guys smoking cigars (no, not Fidel) wear it on their shirts, and there are companies that use the image as a symbol too. For a Socialist that would have to hurt. He’s probably spinning in his graves. I did like the book and the movie ‘The Motorcycle Diaries’ though.

Anyway… Humouroceros

The penguiduck

We have all heard of so-called ‘hybrid’ or ‘alloy’ animals, in other words animals which are bred from two different species. Who doesn’t remember the ‘cabbit’ (cat and rabbit) or the ‘weagle’ (weasel and eagle) from the news about twenty-five years ago. Or how about the lesser-known ‘mooose’ (?) or the ‘platypus’ (??) from even longer ago. It’s a fascinatingly little-studied field of study.

Our local “legend” is called the ‘penguiduck’, and up until recently was considered just that, a legend. A new discovery in a cave on the shore of Lake Hecksapoppin in the North Hecksapoppin Valley, British Columbia appears to have elevated the legend of the penguiduck into the possibility of the penguiduck, and possibly even the probability of the penguiduck.

In a story that I will be posting later, the Canadian Institute of the Theoretical Sciences has announced the discovery of a Haida painting of what looks like a penguin. The painting appears to be quite old and although it’s location is unusual, there is so far nothing to indicate that it is a fake. It is with this bit of information that I visited the town archives, which are unusually extensive, especially in the preservation of native lore. Unfortunately most of this lore has never been transcribed and is hand-written and so it took three weeks of eye-straining, head-pounding “effort”, but I found something. In 1958 a member of the Hecksapoppin Historical Society interviewed an older native man named Lewis LaGroupé who told a story he had been told by his father about his grandfather. When his grandfather had been a young man, which had probably been in the mid-1880’s, he had gone ‘duck-netting’, which is where the natives used large nets to live capture ducks. According to Mr. LaGroupé, his grandfather and his friends happened on a colony of “the ugliest darn ducks you ever saw”. They didn’t catch any but they did notice that the ugly ducks didn’t fly away but rather they toddled off into the surrounding brush with a curious rolling gait. This was the only mention I could find, but it was enough.

As it happens this incident took place at the head of the lake, which is now a public beach and park, and as I had a couple of days to spare (being extra-capable, time-management-wise) I figured a penguiduck hunt was in order. Option-wise I figured I had two ways I could go about it. I could take the holistic approach to this situation, by which I mean the complete pattern of any given situation can be gleaned by the observation of seemingly unrelated incidents. For example, the flapping of an elk’s ear in Nunuvut will influence an earthquake in China. Bizarre, but just check the newspapers. It’s a fact! It’s science. Upon careful consideration I decided to go with my second, and more traditional option, whereby I set up a duck-blind, or a penguiduck-blind if you prefer, although I am a little uncomfortable with calling it a penguiduck -blind in case folks begin mistaking it for the John Cleese character from the movie ‘Yellowbeard’. Of course John’s character’s name was actually ‘Blind Pew’ (pronounced ‘Blind Pew’) but I still think it would be kind of distracting if people kept coming up and asking for autographs, thinking that my penguiduck -blind is actually a famous English comedic actor. I think it would sort of ruin the whole being inconspicuous thing which, as I understand it, is the entire point of a duck, or in this case, a penguiduck -blind.

Another thing that made the whole inconspicuous thing kind of difficult was when one of our local hardly incompetent at all building inspectors appeared as I was assembling the penguiduck -blind. I was ignoring him at first because I usually don’t have much time to spare for self-important little wanks sucking on huge cigars. Eventually I got tired of the little goon poking at me. “What the f**k do you want?” I asked politely.

“You got a permit for this structure?” he asked, waving a freshly signed Stop Work Order at me.

“Bag off, scrunch-mutt,” I said, “I’ve never bought into that Commie crap. Besides, this ‘structure’ is a cardboard box.

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered the little wank as he took a puff on his cigar, ‘that makes no nevermind anyways. You know there, guy, for a small consideration I could be convinced to look the other way, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, yeah!” I said, “I hear you! What you’re saying is that if I give you a couple of bucks or something, you won’t hit me with that there Stop Work Order, right?”

The wank nodded. “Well you could have been a little more subtle, but yeah, you’ve got it.” He sucked on his stogie, a small smile on his face.

I adopted a look of confusion which had been wandering by. “But I already gave five bucks to one of your colleagues,” I lied. “He came by a couple of minutes ago.”

The wank choked on his cigar. “What?” he grunted, “What’d he look like?”

I shrugged. “He was a dumpy little brute. Greasy hair hanging all over his face and his clothes were all stiff with dried sweat and mucus. Oh, and he was smoking a cigar.”

“Huh,” commented the wank as he swiped his greasy hair away from his face. “That could be any of the guys. I’ll get back to you.” He turned and waddled off, stuffing the Stop Work Order into a pocket.

I wedged myself into the penguiduck -blind. It was snug but once inside I began to observe what was going on around me. Did you know that the ******* and District Dog Walking Cabal use the Hecksapoppin Beach Park walk every morning to walk their dogs? I haven’t been peed on that much in about ten years, but you can get used to almost anything, I suppose. Besides it really wasn’t all that bad. Your average Yorky or Dachshund can’t pee very high, so it was only the toes of my runners getting damp. Then someone came along with a Great Dane. Who in their right minds owns a Great Dane? They’re huge, skinny, and they have the calm disposition of a sugarcoated Chihuahua. Oh, and when they pee it’s about three feet (say, a meter) from the ground. Needless to say, this was not an experience I wanted to… experience. Fortunately I had come prepared. Not for the dog pee you understand, as that had come as a bit of a surprise. I had, however, in a fit of whimsy brought along a one meter (about three feet) length of one inch (2.5 cm) doweling so I could poke at the bike riders and joggers when I got bored. Well when the Great Dane lifted his leg I wasn’t bored but I was inspired to jab the mutt in the ‘nads (he wasn’t altered, if you know what I mean.) It went well. I jabbed, he got a Scooby-doo look of puzzlement on his mug, but instead of saying, “uh a eck!” as Scooby-doo would have, he just howled off down the beach. Oh yeah, he livened up a whole bunch. Too bad I can’t say the same for the old guy in the wheelchair four-wheeling along behind him, but I suppose that will teach him to clasp the leash directly to his chair without some sort of emergency release device.

That was about it for the day. I whacked a few of the smaller dogs that came near, but after the excitement of the Great Dane, terrier and poodle stories seem kind of weak. Mind you, it’s still a hoot. Not enough of a hoot to get me out there again any time soon though. I’ve spent enough time in a box for anybody, especially in a penguiduck-free area like the public beach I was at. I’ll get the info on what started this whole adventure and post it ASAP.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Artists conception of a 'penguiduck'

Quotes

“I often quote meself. It adds polish to me conversation.” - Andy Capp 1972

“Why use one word when ten will do?” – Humouroceros 2006

Anyway... Humouroceros

Canadian self-esteem

In the interests of Full Disclosure: The first Hard Rock band I really listened to all the time was Kiss. Back in the day (to coin a phrase) there wasn’t much choice when it came to heavier music to listen to and for what I needed to listen to at the time, Kiss fit the bill. Their double LP Alive was about it as far as party albums went (I don’t remember many a party where that was played at full blast, if you know what I mean) and one of my favorite parts was the BS stylings of bass player, Gene Simmons. No fancy stuff, just get the job done and if confusion ever starts to set in just run your hand up and down the bass’s neck and let the chips fall where they may. That’s rock and roll.

Now old Gene is not merely the bass player for a hugely successful rock combo. Over the last thirty years he has acted in movies and on TV, written books, released solo albums and, from what I see and hear in the popular press, he is currently starring in a “reality” TV show called Gene Simmons Family Jewels.

After that, probably needlessly, lengthy introduction we come to the pit, the nut, the very cusp of what this one is all about. Here’s something that Gene himself said on GSFJ: "You Canadians have Canadian self-esteem issues. Your problem is why can't Canada be as cool as America. Time to get over it. Your air's cleaner, your women are prettier, get over it. You can hear a Canadian in any movie theatre - the movie comes on and you hear 'Hey, did you know they're Canadian?' And it's like oh please, it's so embarrassing. Canada must just be hiding its face. Buy some cool. Buy some of it."

Well heck, Gene, you nailed it. Some Canadians do have self-esteem problems. Personally I am so freaking tired of hearing how (insert name here) who is doing so well in the US doing movies or music or TV or whatever, is originally from Canada. So? I mean, good for them but the fact that they had to leave their home country so that they could “make it” seems like kind of a funny thing to brag about. “Yes, June, Jo-Anne Hotbody, the Bobocitos of Anaheim, is starring in another monster Hollywood blockbuster that has Academy Award written all over it.” “That’s right, Brad. She’s originally from Canada, you know.” “Sure did, June, and lucky for her she left or she’s be working as a greeter in Canadian Tire to make ends meet after starring in a huge Canadian movie that nobody will ever see because that’s just the way things work!”

To quote Dogbert; “Bah!”

Anyway… Humouroceros

Get a grip

To the Vancouver Olympic Committee (VANOC); Regarding your idea to close down schools, colleges, and universities during the 2010 Winter Olympics in order to “involve the children in the highly positive Olympic movement”. Could you please get a grip? The Olympic Games are just that, games, while an education should be just that, an education. Hope this helps and thanks for listening.

Your friend; Humouroceros

To the elected leaders of Cameron County, Texas, USA; Regarding your insistence on continuing to spread the lie that some of the 9/11 murderers crossed into the US from Canada. Could you please get a grip? This has been proven not to be the case by US law enforcement agencies (you may have heard of them: the FBI, the CIA, the NSA, etc) and as elected leaders you should probably try to be a little more honest with the people who elected you. Hope this helps and thanks for listening.

Your friend; Humouroceros

To the publishers and/or editors of People Magazine; Regarding your terming of the pairing of celebrity couples names (TomKat, Bennifer, Vaughniston, Spederline, ad nauseam) as ‘clever’. Could you please get a grip? It is not ‘clever’ because it is actually ‘freaking annoying’. Hope this helps and thanks for listening.

Your friend; Humouroceros

To all the news providers (including, but not exclusive to, television, radio, newspapers, the Internet, etc); Regarding your reporting on “reality” TV shows on the news. Could you please get a grip? This stuff is not news. In fact, in my book, it doesn’t even qualify as entertainment. I don’t recall any news reports on Hogan’s Heroes or Get Smart way back when, so why don’t you hire an extra reporter and gather some real news? Hope this helps and thanks for listening.

Your friend; Humouroceros

To Jack Layton, leader of the New Democratic Party of Canada (AKA: the NDP); Regarding what you said about Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay (after he was accused of calling his former girlfriend, Belinda Stronach, a ‘dog’ in the House Of Commons. A charge he denies), to wit: “People believe they heard him say certain things and he should be a big enough man to stand up and say, ‘Irrespective of what I think I might have said, obviously some people heard me say something that was deeply insulting, and I apologize.’" Could you please get a grip? In your world people are expected to apologize for things they never said? If that’s the case then why don’t you apologize for the alleged remarks? Hope this helps and thanks for listening.

Your friend; Humouroceros

*************

Anyway… Humouroceros

When pumpkins go bad

Anyway... Humouroceros

A book "review"

The latest book in the ‘list’ category is ‘The 101 Most Influential People Who Never Lived’, and this is one that the very instant it gets to the library I’ll be considering wandering on down and borrowing it for a while (www.101influential.com). The premise is that a crack team has gathered together, and whittled down to a very manageable number of 101, a select list of inspiring characters from myth, legend, television and the movies. These fictional characters are all in their own ways movers and shakers and have in some way influenced people and world events.

It’s an interesting point and in the interests of full disclosure I have to admit while I have seen the list, I have not seen the essays explaining why each entry is good or bad. I admit that once I have actually read the thing any questions I have may be answered and it’ll be all flowers and honey after but until that time I’ll just carry on as usual, so here goes:

I can understand why someone would be influenced by Atticus Finch (#57), the Ugly Duckling (#55) or the Little Engine That Could (#31) but what influence could King Kong (#74) or Godzilla (#38) have? Why it the title ‘101’ when there are actually 108 characters (some doubles in the same entry)? Romeo and Juliet (#9) or Captain Kirk and Mister Spock (#50) as examples. Are Kirmit The Frog (#67), the Cat In The Hat (#79) or HAL 9000 (#66) actually people, as claimed in the title? I think not.

For me the biggest shock was #9 – the American Cowboy. What’s up with that? Do these guys mean to say there were no John Waynes, no Clint Eastwoods, no Roy Rogers and Dale Evans (okay, Dale Evans was a cowchick, but the thought holds). No (insert name of favorite cowboy character here – including Cleavon Little (Blazing Saddles) because that guy was smooth)? Somehow the thought that there were no real American Cowboys – all swagger and six-shooters, blasting injuns and lynchin’ rustlers, kissing their horses and mammin’ their wimminfolk – just makes things all foggy. There might as well be no First Thanksgiving shared with the Noble Savages at Plymouth Rock, no George Washington saying, “I cannot tell a lie”, no Mission Accomplished in Iraq. Terrible. Oh well, whatever.

I understand it is totally up to the authors how they described things in their book and it was all for entertainment anyway. If I were to ever accidentally write a book I would do the same and whoever didn’t like it could go lick a bug. I just want to be sure that everything is on the up and up for these guys and good luck to ‘em.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Space Elevator

A team of UBC Engineering students has taken time off from their very important “hanging a VW bug from the First Narrows bridge” activities to take part in NASA’s 2006 Beam Power Challenge. The team has been working on a design for a solar powered “Space Elevator” which, it is hoped, will one day be used to ship people and cargo to low orbit space-stations. Team member Kyle Knucklesandwich, a seventh year engineering student, says, “Dude, it’s, like, hard.”

The team has built a prototype: an elevator powered by a solar cell which can climb a 60 meter tether, and with luck this will win them the $150,000 USD prize. According to Mister Knucklesandwich, three time winner of the UBC Engineers karaoke ‘Chugga-lugga ding-dong’ competition, this is just the first step. “We gotta win this thing, then we talk to the suits, y’know, ‘cause that’s where the real coin is. Then after that it’s all, like, party, y’know?” In fact should a practical Space Elevator be designed and built it could save the aero-space industry billions. As an example; it would be far less expensive to step onto an elevator car and press ‘up’ to get to Low Orbit Earth Space-station Alpha-one-one-alpha-alpha-one-one-alpha-one than it would be to prep and launch a space shuttle for the same trip.

“Yeah,” continued Mister Knucklesandwich, “all together the guys put over 12,000 man-hours into this, and that sounds like a lot, and it is a lot, but if you, like, convert it into, like, girl-hours then it would be, kinda like, a million or something ‘cause they, like, talk and shop and they’re always forgetting which way to turn a nut to tighten it and stuff, and stuff.”

Mister Knucklesandwich admits that they still have a couple of hurdles to overcome. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure out, like, what kind of music they should play when they’re going up or, like, down. The metal dudes want, like Ozzy or stuff and the ravers want some techno beats and it gets kinda intense sometimes. Guys are all, like, no way and stuff. And, like, when you’re in an elevator and you don’t want to look at anybody’s, like, eyes and stuff so, like, what do you look at, y’know? And what about smoking, right? It’s gross but dudes are, like, whatever, right?” These are all important questions but then again, these are the guys who are going to answer them because the UBC team was voted ‘most likely to win then drink a bunch of beers and get sick in 2006’. Good luck, guys!

Anyway… Humouroceros

The proposed entrance for the new Space Elevator.

I just found this...

I was going through the archives of the online mag The Simon and I found this. Good stuff and it's something I've been thinking for a while only this guy had the smarts to write it down, and he wrote it down brilliantly. Fair warning: there is some swearing here but I think it is merely evidence of his passion on this topic. Check out The Simon at www.thesimon.com 'cause they hold the copyright on this.

*************

Gay Marriage: Why We Must Stop This Terrorist Threat!

By Chad Fifer - Feb 29, 2004
For once, I'm in complete agreement with the Bush administration — marriage between a man and a woman must be protected at all costs. I know, I know — those of you who've read my previous critiques of George W. Bush are probably surprised by my stance on this issue. You were probably expecting me to go on and on about the hundreds of young men and women who continue to get killed in Iraq because of Bush's shady dealings and shitty diplomacy. But I'm sorry — when Rosie O'Donnell gets married TO ANOTHER WOMAN, all of those dead kids have to take a back seat. We need a constitutional amendment, and we need it now!
The key word is protect. When other forms of marriage become legal, it is a fact that they will target and destroy traditional guy-on-girl marriage. Gay marriage, multi-partner marriage, and interspecies marriage are nothing more than forms of terrorism, and as G.W. has thankfully made clear time and time again, America is against terror! (By the way, since we're at war with terror, can we send some soldiers in to attack Freddy Vs. Jason? That movie scared the crap out of me.)
And I'm not kidding about the interspecies marriage. While we're all being distracted by those fags trotting up and down the San Francisco city hall steps, events are transpiring overseas that pose the gravest of threats to our sacred institution of marriage. Just last year, a nine-year-old girl in India married a stray dog! Those dirty brown foreigners are MARRYING FUCKING DOGS! U.S. Intelligence, you've dropped the ball once again.
Oh, you think that kind of "animal husbandry" can't trickle across our borders? Ha! The precedent is already there: In 1975, when the County Clerk of Boulder, Colorado began briefly issuing same-sex marriage licenses, dog-breeder Roswell "Ros" Howard tried to marry his horse! Luckily, the license was refused because "Dolly" was only 8 years old and couldn't provide consent in writing from her parents. But the message was clear — once gay marriage becomes legal, all sorts of immoral activities will follow. Howard may not have been serious about getting hitched to his horse, but you can bet that once gay marriage is legal, every sneaky Muslim in this country will be serious about saying "I do" to his cow — dead serious.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The issue at hand is legalizing gay marriage. Many of you out there think we should just go ahead and do it. After all, who is it hurting? Well, ye of little foresight, allow me to paint a picture for you (don't worry, I'm not really painting — it's just my clever metaphor for the future): Let's say that before G.W. can use his Bic erasable to correct the Constitution, you and all of your fey liberal congressmen and their atheist judge buddies get together and stop him. Now, because of your little activist minority — some of whom are probably the same wimps who overturned those state antimiscegenation laws in 1967 — gay people everywhere can get married.
Suddenly, traditional marriage is no longer protected.
So, here comes Swingin' Steve and his boyfriend Bruce, all gussied up in their mustaches and pink tuxedos (or maybe even gowns), strolling out of the chapel with Uncle Sam's blessing. Johnny Lunchpail sees this on the 11 o'clock news and thinks, "Well if just anybody can get married, then what's the point? It used to be that only a man and woman could legally share control of medical decisions, control of property, and invoke spousal privilege in court — now that just anybody can do it, I'm not special anymore!"
Suddenly, Johnny and millions like him stop loving their families. Because of the gays, normal people stop putting effort into their marriages and allow themselves to get fat and boring. Children of traditional marriages no longer get attention from their parents, many of whom even get divorced, a phenomenon entirely unheard of before gay marriage. The only children not being neglected by their parents are those adopted by gay couples, and obviously nobody wanted them anyway. And because these foster rejects are raised by homos, they grow up all swishy and pacifist. Gone are the manly-men of yesteryear; after the legalization of gay marriage, the America of the future becomes soft, fat and weak.
And it is at precisely this moment that THE DOG-MEN ATTACK!
Parachuting from their terrorist jet-planes, ripping our effeminate soldiers apart with their impossibly strong jaws, the spawn of a thousand Indian dog-weddings take America apart state by state. The dead are used as chew-toys, the survivors imprisoned. America becomes nothing more than an oversized fire hydrant for our canine oppressors, and all the while God does nothing, sternly allowing us to reap the rewards of our sinful permissiveness.
As our descendents shuffle mindlessly from the fields to the kennels, their backs aching from hours of digging for bones, do they discuss gay marriage? Do they continue to defend their constitutional right to pursue happiness? Do they still argue that the "almost equal" status offered by civil unions is unacceptable? Do they?
The answer is no. No, they don't. For, you see — slaves cannot marry.
George W. Bush has said that marriage is "the most fundamental institution of civilization." I agree with him. If we refuse to protect heterosexual marriage, we're refusing to protect the very fabric of society, and we can only pray that we don't live to see the Dog-Men humping the spirit of freedom out of our grandchildren.
In order to prevent this future, American activists must stop causing trouble and listen to the wisdom of our leaders. Gay marriage is immoral, ugly, and against the will of God. Those who pursue same-sex nuptuals are ultimately pursuing the ruin of Western civilization. There is only one kind of gay marriage stamped, sealed, and approved by George W. Bush, and that's the gayest marriage of them all: the marriage of church and state.

Anyway... Humouroceros

Sweeping out the corners

I was going through my files (AKA: my great big pile o’ junk) and found these two items and I figured I had better get them out before they were completely out of date rather than being only partially out of date. As an illustration I have included political cartoons from a newspaper.

*************

Doctor Condoleezza Rice, US Secretary of State, came to Canada to observe the fifth anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9/11, and to thank Canadians for their help on that day. During that trip she spent much time with Canadian Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay at his riding in Halifax and the two spent so much time together that the New York Times (a US paper based out of New York, apparently) published a front page article with the headline “Dance Of Diplomacy”, thus blowing the lid off the whole situation.

The good doctor was apparently unable to keep her eyes off the rugby-toned body of the young Foreign Minister, the man she called ‘Peter’. One very private dinner later followed by a smiling observation (or ‘hint’) that she kept her private room’s window open at night and little to nothing was left to the imagination.

Foreign “Affairs” Minister MacKay was no less smitten, professing admiration for Doctor Rice’s “great mind” and calling himself a “fan”. A couple of double doubles and a twenty pack of Tim-bits later and that’s what I call a successful meeting. Stay tuned.

*************

On September 20, 2006, President of Venezuela Hugo R Chávez delivered a speech to the United Nations General Assembly. As any good speechmaker would he went straight for the laughs and by all accounts he just ‘slayed ‘em’. In reference to US President George W Bush’s speech from the day before he quipped, “the devil came here yesterday”. President Chávez was forced to pause when riotous laughter and applause greeted this remark but he really had them rolling in the aisles when he continued with , “in this very spot it smells like sulphur still”.

President Chávez’s speech is considered to have been one of the best of the 2006 season. Even many US allies were forced to admit that President Bush’s speech of September 29, 2006 “sucked”. His jokes were bad and his delivery was, at best, wooden. As Henry Rollins has observed some people can make a pause and an “uh” work, but President Bush is not one of these people. Unfortunately the pauses and the “uh”s outnumbered the jokes.

In what can only be described as an ugly display of sour grapes the US Ambassador to the US, John Bolton, was heard to mutter, “I’m just not going to comment on this” (In fact Ambassador Bolton was not even there for President Chávez’s speech. The US seat was filled by a “junior note taker” which as the Ambassador pointed out is customary “when governments like that speak.” Well! As I said, sour grapes.)

Anyway… Humouroceros

Operation Water

Gus Bustagut, Black Operations spokesman for the US Department of Water Acquisition and Relocation, has announced the end of phase one of Operation Water. This phase of Operation Water, which began on July 4, 2006, saw the relocation of 1.3 frooglepooptillion gallons of water from Lake Slapalasta in southern British Columbia, Canada, to the top-secret aquifer storage facility in the Klinksgate Caverns in New Mexico, USA. “This is just the beginning of a project that will ensure that the elite of the United States will have an adequate supply of fresh water for generations,” he said.

Spokesman Bustagut further explained that it is a well-known fact that in the decades to come fresh water will become more and more scarce and so this new supply had to be secured. Canada, which has never been properly fully exploited, has an ample supply of fresh water, free for the taking. Research has shown that as a rule Canadians only use fresh water three to four months of the year. The rest of the time it is frozen as snow or ice and during these times Canadians just do without. Also as Canada has a smaller population than the United States spread over a greater area less water is needed anyway. An agreement was reached in principle whereby the United States will get 175% of the fresh water it may need from Canada and in turn the US virtually guarantees that it will probably not invade and bomb Canada back to the Ice Age. Most agreed that you just can’t get any fairer than that.

Spokesman Bustagut concluded by saying, “Of course all this is top-secret since we don’t want our Canadian friends to get excited or anything.” Well, of course.

Anyway… Humouroceros

The following pictures are from the new shores of Lake Slapalasta where the water level has dropped nearly thirty feet in the past three months. The first picture shows the communication dishes at Project HQ:

All pictures provided by the group 'The Yanks Are Taking Our Water!' TYATOW! has been called a pro-terrorist, anti-water relocation cell operating out of the South Balliwicke Valley, British Columbia by the US Department of Homeland Security.

A missed opportunity

The first time I say DOA play live was at a concert organized by the son of a friend of mine. The youngster had been living in Vancouver and spending his time skateboarding and playing drums for local hardcore/punk units. He had somehow gotten in good with the great big men of DOA and when the chance came he organized this all ages gig in his hometown. For either $10, or $5 and a donation to the food-bank you got to see DOA headline with three other bands besides. Good value.

Anyway I showed up and being a big spender I paid the $10 and I brought along a couple of cans of soup and some food vouchers. I ran into my niece who was at the show with a cabal of her unruly friends and she and I had a little chat being as we’re on good terms. She asked if I was going to go into the mosh-pit and I told her that I had been asked not to because of the worry that I might break some kids. She said that she had been told not to go into the pit for the same reason.

While we were talking this guy I didn’t know came up to us and asked if I had noticed how many older guys were there trying to pick up young punker chicks. He then looked at my niece and with a huge, cartoonish look of surprise on his face, said, “Oops, sorry,” then he walked away laughing. I didn’t even have the chance to say I hadn’t noticed and to thank him for pointing it out. Oh well. Just another lost opportunity, I suppose.

Anyway… Humouroceros

DOA thundering through 'Overtime' while a roadie tries to subdue the crowd with a used goalies stick. Good clean fun.

Two jokes

1. What's funnier? A mime pretending to be in a glass box or a mime who is really in a glass box?

2. Two cannibals are eating a clown. One looks over and asks, "Does this taste funny to you?"

Anyway... Humouroceros

Oh look, another joke

A horse walks into a bar. The barkeeper looks over and says, “Hey! Is this some kind of joke?”

Anyway... Humouroceros