Saturday, December 30, 2006

The longest undefended border in the world 8

John; I said I would check out what the druggies took pictures of and I’m sorry it took so long but you know how Christmas can be. Lots of this and lots of that and then the people, but that’s the price we pay to live in a free society, unlike the terrorists, right, John? Anyway, I’ve pulled the few photos they took, surprisingly few, and here they are in the interests of keeping you up to speed and full disclosure.

This is what looks like a typical street scene. If there’s anything illegal going on, I can’t see what it is.

This looks like the servants entrance to Government House – South annex.

Possibly the cupola of the Hero’s wing on the Lorne Greene field (also known as Adama’s Park).

This looks very much like the Don Messer Nuclear Facility out in Hunter’s Town-site.

Conscientious Objector Hall, just down the street from Government House.

So that’s about it for now. I have just come onto a lead I want to follow up on and I’ll continue to keep you posted. Hope the Christmas season was a good one for you and yours.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Monday, December 25, 2006

Merry Christmas

Santa and Frosty take one for the team.

Merry Christmas!

Anyway... Humouroceros

Friday, December 22, 2006


I was out admiring the pristine beauty of the local area the other day when I noticed a hawk stooping over a field. There was a certain savage beauty to the sight although I have to admit that the raptors have always been my favorite sorts of birds. They’re not as goofy looking as ducks and they are the perfect design for what they do. A shark of the air. This particular fellow was just hanging there, waiting for some mouse to panic and show himself so the hawk could drop and kill the snot out of it. It’s nature. Anyway, I pulled out my Hawkblaster 2000 and fragged that mother.

The way I figure it is this; hawks and all their birdy fellows are supposed to have evolved from dinosaurs. Dinosaurs, as we all know, were those big lizard-like beasties that spent millions of years holding back the evolutionary development of mammals. That is up until about sixty-five million years ago (give or take) when a small asteroid smacked into the Earth both wiping out the pesky dinosaurs and creating a nice holiday destination for those of us who live in the Great White North (ie: the Gulf of Mexico). Obviously the battle between the dinosaurs and the mammals was hardwired in and thus creaming a hawk is only a reaction to a biological imperative. I couldn’t help myself. I’m a mammal and darn proud of it.

Anyway… Humouroceros




Thursday, December 21, 2006

Trekkies are everywhere!

Anyway... Humouroceros

Snakes alive!

Some people will do anything to get a laugh.

Anyway... Humouroceros

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

The longest undefended border in the world 7

John; here’s how it went down. I followed Anthony’s directions and I’ve got to tell you, it wasn’t pleasant. The place I arrived at wasn’t just on the wrong side of the tracks. Even the tracks were on the wrong side of the tracks. To say it was run-down would be an insult to all the places that are actually merely run-down. The front “yard” was covered with broken glass, broken cars and broken dogs. As regards the house itself what it really needed was tearing down, rebuilding and then tearing down again.

Well, I figured to myself, no guts no glory so I carefully began to pick my way through the debris. The closer I got to the house, the more ear-splitting the noise (AKA: rap “music”) from the inside became. All I could hear was the bass-heavy thump of some “gangsta” rapper ranting about gosh knows what and as I reached the hanging tarp that passed for a front door I took some rapid breaths to prepare myself for what I was about to see (as a pre-incursion prep I had forced myself to watch a TV show where some rap guys walk a camera through their “crib”, saying stuff like, “yo”, “s’up” and “it’s all good” way too much. It was not a pleasant half hour.)

This was worse than I had expected. I certainly don’t want to offend anyone but I’m sure that some of the lower and less kempt levels of Hell are kept neater than the inside of this place was, and would have been less noisy as well. The stereo had to be cranked to ‘nuclear blast’ level but I figured that was okay since nobody would hear me sneak in this way.

Just inside the front entrance there was a small mud-room (apparently for the application not the removal of mud), then another door into the main room of the place. This is where the action was taking place. Or had taken place, I should say since everybody in there was seemed to have driven themselves into some sort of intoxicated stupor. The air was ripe (or stale) with a bewildering blend of odors, the main one of which reminded me of burnt peanut butter. Hmmm, I wondered, was this the scent of that dread marijuana I was smelling? I figured I had better step it up before I got a “contact high” and developed a case of the “munchies” and started to crave a crate of Cheezies© or something.

As I peered through the murk I could see that in the center of the roomful of debauchees there was a raised platform with a huge stuffed chair on it. The biggest, greasiest, longest hairedest, shirtlessest, tattoedest, goober of the bunch was slouched unconscious in the chair, a half chewed baseball bat clutched in one dirty hand, and on a small table beside the chair was my camera still in it’s case. Wicked, I thought as I began to weave my way through the tangle, this would be easy.

I made it to the platform and slowly reached out towards my camera. Then, just as my hand touched it I was interrupted by the sharp tip of a knife’s blade pushing into the back of my hand. I looked up into the bloodshot and crazy eyes of the chair-bound goober and thought, pretty good reaction time for a reefer addict. He reared his head back and let loose with a loud cry of “BWAAAAA!”, then he looked back at me and said, “You trying to get my present? You trying to take my gift? You trying to steal my precious? The boys are going to slice and dice you. It’s gonna be ugly and I’m looking forward to it.”

“The boys,” I snorted. “Open your eyes, reefer-king. Your boys are laid out all over the place and they’re in no condition.”

All at once the music shut down and I could feel my neck hairs curl as they were blasted with the toxic tequila breath of the reefer-king’s boys as they crowded around behind me. I couldn’t help but notice that the floor was now drug-abuser free and John, things had a real nasty feel to them. Ominous even.

“BWAAAAAA!” commented the reefer-king. “I’m thinking that the boys are in fine shape, fuzz-head,” he said. “Slice and dice time.” Instantly a plan formed in my head, which I thought was pretty good considering the whole ‘about to diedness’ of the situation here, crazy tattooed shirtless guy included. “S’up dawg, yo. That’s whack,” I said and everybody drew back.

“What’d you say?” reefer-king asked and I replied, “I said it’s all good, yo. But I need the camera to phot your tats.”

“Why?” he asked. A surprisingly lucid question, all things considered.

“For the tat-rag Sleeves, yo. Dawg, I phoned like last week and told that guy over there,” I pointed at some guy at random, “that I’d be here. You got the message, right?” I had sort of hoped to cause some dissension amongst the druggies but it looked like I had miscalculated when it came down to their own understanding of their short-term memory issues. “I dunno,” reefer-king muttered, “might’ve. Sleeves, eh?” Everybody in the room was nodding in apparent satisfaction. “You made it, man. Way to go,” someone commented. Reefer-king nodded. “Yeah. Go ahead. Take your pictures.”

I pulled my camera from it’s case and tried to turn it on but the batteries were dead, so I just pretended to take pictures, warning, “Look our for the flash!” then saying, “Click!” All the druggies would close their eyes to avoid the flash as I pretended to take about twenty pictures or so. “I think I’ve got what I need,” I said, “and I’ve got to tell you, I’m sensing cover story here. We’ll send you a complimentary copy of course. For your collection.”

“Yo,” answered the reefer-king, and then “BWAAA!” he said in dismissal. “BWAAAAA!” I answered to be polite and then I got out. When I was back by the Jeep I changed out the worn batteries, got a quick picture of the place then booted on out of there. Case closed.

That was a hairy one, John, but it turned out well. I’m going to see what the druggies took pictures of (there are a few more on the counter that there were when my camera was taken, plus the batteries were dead) and all in all, the whole thing turned out to be a terrorist-free exercise. A slight diversion before getting back to the serious work at hand. I’ll keep you posted.

Anyway… Humouroceros

The home of the reefer-king

Sunday, December 17, 2006

George and Hillary

In an interview conducted at Waseda University in Tokyo, Japan, former US President, George H W Bush (#41 from 1988 – 1992) announced to the world that if the junior Senator from New York, Hillary Clinton, runs for the US Presidency in 2008, he will “beat the hell out of her.”

The kinder and gentler George Bush, who fought for his country and was later voted a Hero of Gulf War I (as opposed to the other George Bush who never fought for his country and who is considered by many to be a wiener), went on to say, “I’ll just show little miss Hillary a good old-fashioned Texas ass-whuppin’. Then, when the dust has settled, she’ll look up at me with those big old tear-stained eyes of hers and she’ll whisper huskily that I’m her big old daddy candy-cane. And she’s my little mamasita. Then we’ll make the beast with two backs.”

When informed of the former Presidents remarks, Senator Clinton responded, “Ew, gross. He’s probably all wrinkly or something.”

Anyway… Humouroceros


Thursday, December 14, 2006

The longest undefended border in the world 6

John; I had considered contacting the Mounties regarding my recently swiped camera, but in the end I have opted, for a couple of reasons, to go a different route. Reason one is that the photo-card in the camera has about twenty-seven hundred pictures on it, not counting the one of the druggies. Any one of those pictures could be the one that breaks the whole “Canada is a hotbed of Islamic extremism” thing wide open and I want your pros to see it first. Second; I want to show some good old-fashioned W.A.S.P. initiative. The kind of initiative that got my ancestors to leave the old country with nothing but the potatoes on their backs to make a nice new life in the new world. I admit that this may be selfish, but John, that is just how it is.

So to that end I hunted down a guy I went to school with, off and on, back in the day. Anthony (or ‘Ant-knee’ which we called him in our youthful enthusiasm for the strange and the Italian) had been in the same grade as I, but he quit school before grade ten to move into the drug trade (consumption, not supply). Now, some thirty years later, addiction has turned this guy who used to know a bunch of really cool card tricks into a guy who barely knows his own name. The first taste is free, indeed.

I found Anthony as a local park, barfing enthusiastically behind a dispirited looking tree. After he had settled down a bit I gave him the Tim Hortons double double and chicken wrap I had bought, and then described the situation. I could see that he was trying to think so I prodded him with, “Are these some bad dudes, Anthony? Charter members of some drug cartel or biker gang?”

“Nah,” Anthony eventually replied, “they’re just idiots. They listen to gangsta rap and smoke a whole bunch of dope.” He described to me where they live and it sounds kind of rough, but that’s fine. The path to justice can be a rocky one. I’ll keep you posted, John.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Christmas telly

If you’re going to watch one Christmas show on TV this Christmas season, don’t be dim. Here are four shows worth keeping the kids up and phoning the neighbours for:

Scrooge (AKA: A Christmas Carol) (1951) – The only version of Dicken’s short-story A Christmas Carol that’s really worth watching. Alistar Sim is the only guy who has ever nailed the part of Ebenezar Scrooge and for some reason the English are the only ones who can really catch a true feel for Victorian London. My favorite scene is when Scrooge wakes up and realizes that he has not missed Christmas and then capers around like a total loony. Excellent. Twenty stars out of ten! The movie is best viewed in black and white even though some creep colourized it a few years back. Now there’s someone who should be, in a totally festive and Christmassy sort of way, boiled in oil and fed to ugly dogs. Ho ho ho.

A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965) – I don’t know if this was the first Christmas cartoon produced for TV, but it should be. A Bible reading, dancing, jazz, an ugly tree and Snoopy. What more do you need?

How The Grinch Stole Christmas (1966) – Based on the Dr Seuss children’s book and directed by Chuck Jones (of the Warner Brothers Chuck Joneses), how can you go wrong? Actually I guess they could have pretty easily, but they didn’t. Chuck brought along his usual manic style, and tossed in some Boris Karloff and a totally cool song, “You’re A Mean One, Mister Grinch”. Stylin’.

Trailer Park Boys Christmas Special (AKA: Dear Santa Claus; Go F*** Yourself) (2005) – Good clean fun with lots of liquor, dope, stealing stuff and a little bit of swearing. Typically Canadian, eh.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Monday, December 11, 2006

Pennywise - Dinkopotami

Just spent part of the afternoon YouTubing while the lye soap boiled away merrily on the stove and I came across the video for the Pennywise video F*** Authority, which is a song that I like. Started out kind of harmless, then I noticed that the band had had themselves inserted into protest actions that they had definitely not been at. Okay, I figured, pathetic but that’s the new world order I suppose. Then there were a couple of quick scenes of them with that Chinese guy who stood in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square. Alright boys, that’s completely offside. Just because you’re in some little punk band you figure you have the cast-iron balls that Chinese guy had? Newsflash, guys; you’re not even close.
Anyway… Humouroceros


Word-master Stephen Colbert

The conservative folks at dictionary publisher Mirriam-Webster have seen the error of the ways and once again democracy was won out over traditional beliefs. Via an online survey the word “truthiness” has been chosen as word of the year for 2006 and Mirriam-Webster has had no choice but to finally admit that yes, truthiness is a word. “Truthiness” was credited to Comedy Central satirist Stephen Colbert, who defined it as “truth that comes from the gut, not books”

Colbert, who once derided the folks at Mirriam-Webster as the “word police” and a bunch of “wordinistas”, was pleased. “Though I’m no fan of reference books and their fact-based agendas, I am a fan of anyone who chooses to honour me”, he said in an e-mail to The Associated Press.

Well I should guess to hell so.

Anyway… Humouroceros

PS: in 2005 “truthiness” was chosen as word of the year by the American Dialect Society. Nice of Mirriam-Webster to finally catch up.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

A zany Christmas gag

Here’s a wacky holiday gag you can play. Next time you’re in Wal-Mart go to the book section and find the most expensive book there. Rifle through the pages and find the magnetic security tag (it’s a one inch square piece of metallic looking paper). Take it out and then go to the men’s clothing section and put the tag into the pocket of a cheap pair of jeans, then leave. The thing is that when you buy an expensive book they run it over the demagnitizer so that you don’t activate the alarm as you leave the store. With jeans they don’t bother to run it over the demagnitizer so whoever buys the jeans will set off the alarm as they leave the store, getting caught and dragged back in to the store where they'll be worked over by the Wal-Mart cops. Merry Christmas!

Anyway… Humouroceros

Friday, December 08, 2006

Just an observation

I was talking to a mid-echelon union-buddy who used to work locally but has since been called on to bigger and better things out of the Vancouver office. He’s telling me and another guy about how his fellow walks into his office recently. “Can I help you?” asks union-buddy but it turns out that his visitor has, at best, absolutely no ability to speak English. They make noises and faces at one another for a solid forty-five minutes before it gradually becomes clear that his visitor it trying to arrange for some labour to build a house and has somehow got the wrong end of the stick by coming to a union office. Things became even less clear after that and the visitor eventually leaves in disgust. “Forty-five minutes?” I asked. “You’re exaggerating, right?”

“Nope,” answers union-buddy, obviously proud of the zaniness of the whole situation. “It was at least forty-five minutes.”

On the other hand…

I went to a manager’s office and after the usual hey how are you you’re looking good what’s up, we were down to business. Fifteen minutes later we’re done so it’s a hearty see you later and that’s all she wrote.

I’m not suggesting or insinuating anything. It’s just an observation

Anyway… Humouroceros

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The AK-47, I think

I think this is an AK-47, which is the weapon of choice amongst rebels and such. From what I understand they are easy to make, are pretty much problem free and take a fair amount of abuse. They go like this: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! POW POW POW BANG BANG POW! ZOOM WHIZ-BANG! BOOM!

Anyway… Humouroceros

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

The longest undefended border in the world 5

John; Things have taken a strange and unsettling twist in my search for terrorists. As I mentioned last time, I was going to head back down to the Government Centre. I had sort of gotten a bad vibe from there last fall and there have been stories around town. It is a pretty big facility and is worth checking out more than once. I suspect that after the entertainment and the news industries, government would be one of the next targets on any terrorists hit-list.

It was pretty early when I went down and kind of cool out. Good terrorist-spotting weather I figured as they would still be sluggish from the night chill. I entered through the Ministry or Plenty gates (which someone had forgotten (?) to lock) and began to look around. Bethune Courtyard was clear, as was the Shatner Playhouse and the Pam Anderson Hills. I had about figured that it was all good and after a quick look at the eastern annex door I was just going to carry on with my morning walk. Wouldn’t you now it but there was some movement in the decorative bushes by the door.

I set my camera to ‘night picture’ (it was still kind of dark) and lined up for a beauty photo opportunity. I didn’t know that the stupid flash would go off when I took the picture. Next thing you know a couple of hoodie clad goobers are stumbling out of the bushes, swearing and spitting for all they were worth. They didn’t look happy so as I quickly put my camera away I called out “Allah Ackbar”, which I have heard is a phrase that will put even the most rabid Islamic extremist to sleep in nothing flat. It didn’t work however so I went straight to plan ‘B’ and turned to hoof it, running directly into a car that had stopped right behind me. There was another greasy little hoodie-boy in the cockpit who reached out and grabbed me by the belt (stupid belt). “Hey,” he said, “what the (expletive deleted) you doin’ with my boys, yo?”

My options seemed pretty limited at that point so I did the only thing I could think of; I yanked my camera out intending to pull the photo-card out and eat it, thus destroying any evidence. Unfortunately one of the bush-hoodies saw what I was up to and called out, “Yo, (horribly inaccurate and offensive expletive deleted) has a camera. Dowg’s takin’ pictures of us, yo!”

The car-hoodie grabbed my camera and tossed it on the passenger seat. “Thanks for the camera (expletive deleted). You should (expletive deleted) off home, I mean, what are you? One of those go-gooder (what would be a funny expletive under other circumstances deleted)? Go home!”

Just then the bush-hoodies both puffed up to us and things weren’t looking real good. One of them panted out, “Hey, dawg took our (expletive deleted) picture when we was tokin’. We gotta (expletive deleted) zap him!”

“Yo,” says car-hoodie, “we’re not (expletive deleted) zapping anyone for seein’ you tokin’. I got mister (still horribly inaccurate and offensive expletive deleted) do-gooder’s camera and he’s got nothin’. You go home mister do-gooder. Yo, you two get in the car. Let’s roll.” The bush-hoodies pushed into the car and they bugged off. With my camera.

I guess I can call that one a misfire. Apparently I accidentally took a picture of a couple of dopers smoking a marijuana cigarette and I got my camera taken away for my trouble. And that’s just wrong so I’ll keep you posted about what happens next.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Celcius vs Fahrenheit

It’s something that isn’t covered all that well in Canadian school textbooks regarding recent Canadian history, but people of a certain age remember the time well. They were the Metric Riots of the late 1970’s and the early 1980’s where martial law was declared in citied all across Canada and which, in 1984, brought down the Liberal government, leaving Ottawa in flaming ruins and Canadian society in tatters.

As Canadians we have come a long way since those dark days and today we have what I am proud to call a typically Canadian solution to the entire Metric ker-fuffle; we use both the Metric as well as the Imperial systems interchangeably. Problem, such as it was, solved.

Of course there are those out there who say that this solution just goes to show that Canadians can’t make up their minds to save their lives. I’m undecided on that (this is what’s known as a cheap joke. Sorry) and I have always just sort of figured that we Canadians would rather choose our battles, and fighting over whether something is an inch or whether it’s two point five four centimetres is just stupid. Distance, weight, mass, volume, are all pretty much just arbitrary numbers anyway. Who was it that decided that a foot would be this much or a decimetre would be that much? When you look at it that way then neither system is better than the other (yeah, yeah, and then there’re those who say that a system based on tens is just better anyway and what’s easier? Figuring out how many millimetres in a kilometre, or how many sixteenths of an inch there are in a mile? To this I say, you go right ahead. I’ve got a book to read instead.)

The only place where I can see one system being better than the other is in temperature. I mean who was the prize winning ga-nimrod who thought of water freezing at thirty-two degrees and boiling at two hundred and twelve degrees (at sea-level)? That dude should have stayed off the laudanum and thought about it a bit more. You have to wonder what’s up with that sort of thinking? Life can be complicated enough without tossing looney numbers like that into the mix. Water freezing at zero degrees and boiling at one hundred degrees? Now there’s a system you can sink your teeth into.

Anyway… Humouroceros.

The Official Symbol of Canadian Metrification

My feminine side

In what can only be described as my continuing effort to get in touch with my feminine side so that I can better understand and be for respectful towards chicks, about a month ago I decided to start eating chocolate. To that end I purchased a monster, huge bag of M&M’s© (the 240g bag) and have spent a lot of time powering my way through that puppy. I like to think that I have been putting in a pretty solid effort, and that bad is down by a quarter if not a third.

When you get right down to where the cows frolic in the woods, that’s a lot of chocolate, and so far nothing. I still don’t want to watch gardening shows on TV, I still listen to my metal and my punk, and don’t even get me started on “men’s” figure skating. I can still read a map, I still remember which way to turn a screw or a bolt to tighten it, and in a pinch I can still tell a joke without forgetting the punch-line. I admit that I sort of don’t mind “Queer Eye For The Straight Guy” on TV, but I keep forgetting when it’s on.

In any event, I’ll keep at it. I don’t exactly know what a ‘metrosexual’ is but my thinking is that chocolate may just be the beginning of a great adventure. If I remember, I’ll keep you posted.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Chick medication

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Mike's moose

A couple of years ago my friend, Mike, and some of his pals went moose hunting. It was after his last graveyard shift that week and Mike went bounding out of the plant where he works and into the already packed camper being driven by his fellow hunters and off they went, drinking beer all the way to Quesnel, which is far north of here, as the crow flies.
They set up camp in the boonies a few tens of miles (or whatevers of kilometers) even further north of Quesnel, and a quick bottle of tequila later they all hit the sack to dream the dreams of the totally innocent and the completely pissed. The next morning Mike woke early, put some coffee on to brew, and then he went outside to ‘water the horse’ or ‘hang a rat’ (use the euphemism you most like). He moped around to the front of the camper, and there was a huge moose a couple of dozen yards away, chewing it’s cud and otherwise behaving in a responsible moose-like manner.

So here’s Mike’s quandary. Does he, A: do a job on this particular moose then spend the next seven days eating Fritos and drinking beer while his friends try to get their own moose, or does he, 2: let this moose go and get the next one that happens to come along, which there might not be one of. Mike is nothing if not pragmatic so he whacked the moose right there (I feel it necessary to point out that Mike had no particular issues with this particular moose. It was just a carnivore thing.)

The point of this story is that even though Mike had gone into the moose’s natural habitat to ‘get’ a moose, he didn’t expect it to happen on the first day. That was just luck, unless you were the moose. Had Mike had to spend the entire week hunting that moose he would have been perfectly happy. Not that a week of Fritos, Molsons and dark rum bothered him, but I think it’s the Bible that says, ‘Good things come to those who wait’, or ‘be patient, dude.’ It’s like a Zen thing, I suppose.

Anyway… Humouroceros

Friday, December 01, 2006

Rudy Park nails it!

Nailed it! Isn't driving to the gym about the same as buying cigarettes at a health-food store?
Anyway... Humouroceros

The longest undefended border in the world 4

Well, John, it’s been a while I know, July 2, 2006, and I figured it was time for me to let you know that I was still ‘on the job’ as it were and that none of the terrorists from this Canadian “hotbed of terrorism” had got me, or anything. Yes, I’m still being vigilant and everything and I think that I’ve made some progress and the reason I haven’t been in contact before this was that I didn’t want to waste your valuable time with either chatty little letters or with what would look like paranoid ramblings in any other circumstances (I realize that as Chairman of the House of Representatives subcommittee on immigration and border security you are a busy guy.) Fortuanately since you and I are on the same page, exposing terrorist activities-wise, that is not a concern here. I felt that it was time to bring you up to speed on what I have been finding.

As you are aware I have been using my camera to document any evidence of terrorist activities I see. I take my camera absolulely everywhere that I go, and by ‘absolutely everywhere’ I mean most places. I have filled four 1-gig photo cards with pictures at high resolution and they are stored in a secure area at my home (between you and me, it’s a tube sock stuffed behind the dryer). My original intent was to download any important photos to the computer and then send tham off to you right away for you to deal with. I have since reevaluated and decided to save the original photo-cards with all the pictures I take and I have done this for a couple of reasons. I’m no lawyer but I figured that the originals would be more valuable evidence-wise if it ever came to a “trial” situation (if you now what I mean), and I also figured that if I kept all the pictures I took then your stone professionals would probably be able to spot any evidence that I missed (an enthusiastic amateur is still just an amateur, right?)
To give you some idea of how I’ve been progressing I’m sending the following three photos (with explanations.) They are each of them compelling in their own way and I think once you have studied them you will agree that I am definitely on the right track.

I was checking out a few things down by the eastern annex of the Government Centre when out of the corner of my eye (many people have commented on my exceptional peripheral vision) I spotted some unexpected movement at an upper floor window. I quickly turned, while pulling out my camera (multi-tasking to save time). I activated the camera and while waiting for the lens to deploy I composed the frame. I then focued on the window and took the shot. Unfortunately the window was now empty which I find suspicious. If everything was innocence and rainbows why did this “innocent person” hide?

I was walking along one of the local main drags when I heard a shifty, sneaky sort of sound behind me. Fortunately I already had my camera out, cocked and ready to go, so I turned and fired. If it hadn’t been for my finely honed instincts and my exquisitely tuned reflexes that 18-wheeler would have pasted me like a deer on the hi-way. Unfortunately by the time I had sorted myself out any suspicious activities had stopped and it was all clear. Weird.

I was out for my usual morning walk when through a gap in the scenery I got a pretty good view of the downtown core and wouldn’t you know it but there is this giant plume of smoke! I quickly snapped off a picture and them rushed off to get a better view and see if I could help. It seemed suspicious to me that there were no emergency vehicles to be seen but when I got closer I could see why. It turned out that there had been a messy cappuccino accident at a small coffee-shop called General Joe’s Coffee House and Bait Rentals. Some rookie had swished when he should have slopped and next thing he knew the air was full of milky steam (hey, it happens). Details were kind of thin on the ground but everything looked to be on the up and up.

So that’s it for now, John. I’ve got an interesting lead I’ll be following up this morning, once again down at the Government Centre and I’ll keep you posted. You can count on me.

Anyway… Humouroceros