Journal

Where has the right side of this web page gone?!, you’re asking yourself. It’s gone! It was there. For a while it was a random picture from the photo gallery, often bouncing inappropriately from a picture of my loving Grandmother to a picture of Joe buttfucking one of the American posse on New Year’s Eve. Then it was fake video of Shaun rear-ending a broad in a dark hotel room. And now it’s just that Frankenhooker bullshit from Calgary. It’s clear that, much like the odour in the front of my undies, things have gotten much worse here lately. I say let’s just be thankful things haven’t gone the way of the back of my undies where it’s a veritable tsunami of ass hair and pimple blood. ...

I’m not gonna lie to you. I had no business putting that exclamation mark up there. Totally undeserved. I sincerely apologize for getting your hopes up for the 298th time. Wow, have I really almost posted 300 times? Yes. Let’s all pause and celebrate the insignificance of that. Good. Moving on… During my 150 kilometre drive in to work today I was thinking about a money-making endeavour that would benefit both you (yes, you) and me. Go with me on this one. Okay, step 1: I quit my job. Step 2: I make this site the most awesomest, super-cool site you’ve ever seen by dumping some money and effort into it. Step 3: I charge you all $25 per month to be a member of the site, a FortErieDave Torpedo of Truth Seeker, if you will. I win because I can still afford to pump myself full of double cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes, and you win because I have the time to entertain you. Probably several times a day. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Judging by the pretty line chart below, it would seem that some of you are still interested in my brand of in-fun-tain-ment! ...

The other day I arrived at work and proceeded to the elevator area. A good old-fashioned fatty big-boned gal came out of a door as I stood there waiting. She had a look of frustration on her brow and was focused on her path. I took note of her displeasure as it was nice to see and it immediately brightened my morn’. All of a sudden she stopped quickly, turned around, said “Son of a bitch!” quite loudly and proceeded back into the door from whence she came. I can only assume that 30 minutes earlier she’d been sitting at her desk with a Twix bar and a Snickers that her friend Susan had given her and was having a tough time deciding which to eat. After half an hour of deep thought, she settled on the Snickers which took less than 8 seconds for her to consume and then she was up and on her way. Having walked 18 feet from her desk, the fact that she didn’t eat both treats was too much to bear and she had to go back for old Twixxy. Congratulations on your first two-chocolate-bar breakfast. Let me tell you, Tubalina, that you’ve just begun a hike down what is a long, slippery slope. At the bottom of the slope? Painful 4 am constipation and 4:30 am acid reflux. Welcome to the party, pal! ...

If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn’t be more surprised than I am now.

… and here’s me taking a poop, straight from Holden’s digital camera.

I went to the doctor’s office the other day. About 5 weeks ago I was sledding with my son down a reasonable-sized hill in his new sled. I felt our path was about to involve a tree so I put down my left hand to change our direction. Sadly the only thing that quickly changed direction was either a tendon or bone in my hand and that direction was due South towards ouchville. I whined briefly about it and then when I realized no one cared I stopped and figured I’d go down the hill a couple more times and then never do anything physical again. ...

Ya, I kinda went off the deep end for a while there. I’m back on track. It’ll happen again, so let’s enjoy the lull. I think we can all appreciate that if our daily lives resembled the four photos below, this World would be a pretty swell place to live… [mla_gallery] … as long as you’re comfortable using the word ‘swell’ when stretch marks, the year 2005 and Carolan’s are involved. Me, I’m comfortable with it all. I’m even comfortable using the term ‘blacks’ when there are blacks in the room, but it’s usually under my breath and while I’m on my way out of the room to a place with more whites. ...

Lest anyone think I’m under the impression I wasn’t just as tubby back then, here’s the photo to prove it. Me at about 265 pounds and Ryan Spoar looking more fuckable than ever!

Only one who should be smiling in this picture taken circa 2001 is the waiter who probably sold thrice his usual amount of french fries to this table. Don’t forget to click on the picture to see it in all of it’s full-sized goodness! Your browser does not support the audio element.

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