Tits on the Radio

Things they don't tell you... II

2009-09-27T15:48:00.006-06:00

This time I would like to tell you what I have learned about United-Statians (I refuse to call them Americans), since I have become friends with a few of them here in Quebec. This is not a sweeping generalization, but rather I am stereotyping the ones I have met so far. I apologize.

1. Surprisingly, they aren't all total douchebag losers.

2. Not surprisingly, they have no clue where Saskatchewan is (ALL the Mexicans do, however. They take Canadian history in highschool apparently).

3. Most pretend to understand what winter is going to be like when it gets here. As it gets slowly colder, I realize very few have any idea.

4. When in public, they look around before quietly uttering "communism." Apparently fights break out if you bring it up there. Getting on top of a table and yelling "I love communism!" in Texas likely gets a similar response to yelling "Let's privatize everything!" in Regina.

5. I guess dudes don't dance in nightclubs in the states. They are shocked by the amount of guys hitting the d-floor here.

6. It seems like half the population of the US are vegetarians. I don't know any vegetarian from home, and now I know at least 3. All Americans. I think the Saskatchewan equivalent are "meatatarians."

7. They bitch about produce quality and price in our grocery stores. News flash: A type of apple tree that produces fresh, yummy fruit in -20ºC has yet to be discovered.

8. US-ians are shocked to discover that the "eh?" myth is true. They are also convinced we say "a-boot" and think we say "sorry" weird too.

9. Some American citizens realize that their education system intentionally develops ignorant jerks who assume the USA is the centre of the universe.

Last but not least....

10. They have way too much faith in Barack Obama.

---And they thought they had the first black Head of State...pff---

Sherbrooke 2009: The student life.

2009-09-22T22:17:00.006-06:00

Well I finally have a full week of school in now. So I am back in the swing of student life, be it 3000 kilometres from home. The campus is cuter than a Hutterite with an iPhone. This time of year, the trees are a rainbow of colours, which is new to me. Saskatchewan's trees seem to defoliate quite boringly in comparison. The campus slopes downhill, so there is a magnificent stream that begins by running out of the library and then ends in a neat pond at the bottom of the hill. The photo above illustrates part of this neat stream; the glass building in the distance is the "Carrefour d'Information (library)" and the buildings on the left are part of my residence.

I also discovered that no matter where I am, I love to procrastinate. Except instead of creeping on Facebook and watching the Food Network all day, the procrastination takes the form of sleeping. I am sleeping around the clock everynight. Go to bed at midnight; get up at noon. I will blame the changing weather and my extremely uncomfortable bed. The lower quality of sleep means an increased quantity of time in the sack. Makes sense, no?

Living in the apartment style residences in Regina for 3 years, I got quite comfortable to having my own full kitchen. We have a massive, dirty, and ethnically stinky kitchen on our floor which serves about 60-70 other students. Moreover, meal plans are not an option on this campus. Thank goodness I have a fridge in my room! To avoid the kitchen and fast food joints, I originally was making sandwiches and eating produce everyday.

I really love rice, so I bought a 6-cup rice maker and a 10 lb. bag of basmati rice. I know, I sound like "that" asian roommate in residence. But I have got quite experimental with the machine indeed. One meal, I steamed some potatoes in there. The next day, I boiled pasta and fried some polish sausage all in the rice maker, combined them and added some pasta sauce to make a tasty treat.

---My 6-cup rice maker. If you pay more than $20 for one, you are getting financially raped.---

Tonight was the biggest experiment to date. I decided to cook a pound of hamburger in the machine to make burritos. I was a bit nervous. However with the lid on, the meat cooked just as quick as it would in a frying pan. I got my spices mixed in and I even warmed up the torilla shells using a the steam off the cooking beef. So tasty. Tomorrow I plan to make taco salad with the leftovers. Moral of the story: Everybody buy a rice cooker! They are taking the western world by storm! In a family-sized machine, you can cook a full chicken! Faster than a slow cooker!

---Here I am eating the first of 4 burritos out of the rice maker.---

Note to self: when cooking spicy foods and using garlic in your dorm room, close the closet door and open a window. My clothes smell like they belong to a Ukrainian vacationing in Cancun.

Aside from eating and sleeping, I spend a lot of time tidying. I have decided that the smaller the space you live in, the easier it is to replicate the destruction of a tropical storm. So I am always sweeping, doing dishes, and just generally picking up after myself. Maybe if I wasn't such a messy person I wouldn't have to clean so much.

I need to figure out how I can cut down on the cleaning, cooking, and sleeping. You should all be very worried if I ever have time to party.

Things they don't tell you...

2009-09-20T22:02:00.004-06:00

Well, I have been in Quebec for a few weeks now and, like with any trip, there have been a few surprises. Some exciting, some not so much. I thought I might take this time to share some of the surprises.

1. Remember Vico? Yeah, it still exists here. It isn't brand-name Vi-co, it is just what the Quebeckers call chocolate milk.

2. Smoking is a quite a bit cheaper here, averaging $9 or $10. Probably should have expected it though, because Lord knows the Francophones like their fags. The Americans I hang out with complain of because they are not 4 bucks a pack; I rejoice because my party smokes aren't fourteen bones a pop.

3. Goodhost iced tea is NOT available here. It breaks my heart. I have searched in every supermarket and grocery store, but apparently the iced tea is not a way of life in Quebec like it is in Saskatchewan. I have had to resort to drinking Kool-Aid, like some Mississippian on Sunday afternoon with a bucket of KFC. But I digress...

4. Cream Soda is not the standard pink or occasional brown here. Crush Cream Soda is all clear, like water or gin. That is stupid, personally. What parent wants a clear, sugary liquid in the house? Chances are it gets spilled everywhere by your 3 year old and it isn't til 2 weeks later, when your toe gets stuck by the dishwasher, that you realized you didn't clean it all up. Clear cream soda - harder to clean off linoleum, but easier to hide on carpet.

5. Cheddar cheese is white. And soft. Eww.

6. Curds. If you think about your average convenience store in Saskatchewan, what is always for sale near the til? Lighters, right? Well, in Quebec, the lighters are pushed over to make way for little individual-sized bags of curds. Yes, gooey, potentially squeaky but delicious curds. Even the book store on campus sells curds! (mind you, it also sells Pabst and wine coolers...) Now I knew they were crazy about poutine down here, but I never expected to see curds on the "don't forget" shelf next to the butane lighters and breath mints. So if you want an individual sack of curds as a souvenir, just let me know. Keep in mind the snobbiest Quebeckers refuse to eat curds more than a day old and they go really bad in about 3 or 4 days.

Well, this entry seems to have covered the basic culinary quirkiness of the province so I will leave you with that. Maybe next time I will share the quirkiness of the people themselves?

Sherbrooke 2009: Hello, walls.

2009-09-14T10:27:00.005-06:00

I seemed to dive quite quickly into friendship with the people I made that first week in Sherbrooke. I came across the country with a fresh, open attitude about people, their beliefs, and the according personalities. I figured I should meet some people and maybe learn a thing or two.

So my second weekend in the province, and my first with any friends, we decided to make a trip to one of the oldest cities in North America: Quebec. Elena, Nathan, Michelle and I. We made this decision, but we had to make some plans first. We called EVERY hostel in the city, and they were all booked up. Then were realized we were going into the city on the Labour Day weekend. It was bound to be busy. We got smart and booked a motel room for 2 for $90 (cheaper than 4 hostel rooms) and found us a rental car for $105. We had it made!

We go to pick up the car, and realize we are getting a Dodge CHARGER! Step one: completely fulfilled. We got in the car, discovered a good radio station, found a Tim's for the coffee drinkers along the road, and made it into Quebec to our motel without a single hitch. Even the motel room was stellar, complete with a 27'' flat screen TV mounted on the wall. But it was time to hit the city.

Now that I am a professional public transit patron after spending a week in Sherbrooke, we made it to Old Quebec in no-time. We were told we would find the old city by "walking up some stairs" Hmm. Well I found some stairs, climbed them, and I felt like I was dropped into your stereotypical European village. Rickshaws, fiddle music, and the smell of delicious food intoxicated me like a bottle of dry gin and some sparkling lemonade. Narrow stone streets with colourful buildings and pleasant performers were overwhelmingly delightful.

The swarming streets of the old city was also overwhelming. Thousands upon thousands of people walking the streets, shoulder-to-shoulder. Regardless of how hectic it was, I decided that Quebec is far more friendly than Sherbrooke. Sherbrooke is beautiful and fun, but I didn't find any of those snobby people, all pretentious about speaking French, in Quebec. Maybe as a popular tourist destination, one has to be a bit more tolerant of others.

I'll stop being so verbose and wrap this up with my 3 favourite parts of the trip to the city:

1. The graffiti. Quebec was covered with graffiti. I noticed it a bit in Sherbrooke, but in Quebec, every fifty feet was another scribbling of "Quebec Libre!" (Free Quebec). The separatist forces are stronger than I imagined them to be in 2009. The PM tells us westerners he has patched up the whole "Quebec issue." Maybe not.

2. The walls. I was in disbelief when I was walking on the massive surroundings of the most important buildings in what was once the centre of New France.

3. Cirque de Soleil. We just happened to get off the bus at a stop downtown Saturday evening, to stumble upon a free C de S show. It was way cooler than I ever imagined it to be; a real moving experience.

Well that's it for now folks. Check back if you love me.

Sherbrooke 2009: What la Fak?

2009-09-03T17:07:00.005-06:00

Well, good news, ladies and gentlemen: I did eventually get caught up on my sleep. The next bridge I had to cross was trying to make some friends. It was going to be tough, because my any friends I made would have to be willing to speak to me in English.

I was feeling particularly isolated in my 8x12 dorm room the first couple days. I could here franco-ruckus in the hallway frequently. I made a point of leaving to go shower or use the bathroom when I was convinced I wouldn't have to run into someone in the hallway. If I did stumble across someone else, I would give one of those awkward banana smiles, indicating I was not interesting in talking.

On Saturday, I decided to track down one of my fellow exchangees (Ashley from Oregon) that I had contacted by email a couple weeks earlier. Turns out (not by much surprise) that she was as lonely as I was. We met up and went for a little cruise around the campus. We then found another friend (Kathy from Miami) and the three of us caught the bus to the shopping mall. We managed to purchase a few essentials before we were kicked out of the mall at 5:00. The Americans were a bit shocked that a mall might close so early, but I was not surprised at all. Maybe this was a statement to consumer values?

It was on Saturday that I also learned the true value of alcohol. While touring the city, I found that the grocery stores and convenience stores all sell booze. My favourite part was the jumbo bottles of beer that they sell. One litre of your favourite beer, and all in varying strengths! As the photo depicts, 1L of Coors Light runs at $3.79, and something like 8.1% Labatt runs at about five bucks. One lesson I've learned: don't start off the night with the 8.1% Labatt.

Monday morning I got my classes picked for the semester. I am a little bit rattled that don't start classes until the 14th of Septemer. I only have 2 hours of class a day until Thanksgiving, but then I have 6 hours of class until the end of November. For those who never went to university, 6 hours of class in a single day may seem moderate. However, I think any university student will agree that 6 hours a day in a lecture hall is almost as bad as voting Conservative. Just imagine 6 hours a day, 5 days a week! Sweet Jesus. Oh well, I plan to be particularly studious this semester. I figure I came here to learn French, so I better learn it as best I can.

Monday evening is the reason I am here so early. I had to be here for the mandatory Soirée Bienvenue (welcome evening) for all of the exchange students. I thought it was going to be like an orientation of sorts to help us figure out campus and all of the administrative bullshit that I was completely confused about.

Nope.

Instead, it was a bunch of boring speeches which are exponentially boring when you understand one in ten words. But hey, I did get a free pint of beer and met some new friends: Nathan from San Diego, Elena from Portland, and Michele from Austin. And apparently our free alcoholic beverages loosened us all up a bit. We decided to strike up some conversation with some French kids* and then a few of us decided to try a night on the town. Elena seemed to know about this bar called la Fakulté, so we wondered on down there after 4 of us shared 3 jumbo Coors.

Turns out la Fak (as it is happily referred to) is not a pub like we expected, but more like a shaking student nightclub. I was able to order some some drinks with my remedial language skills.: "deux Coors en fût, s'il vous plait... combien?... CINQ dollars!?!" With the ridiculously cheap booze not only in the grocery stores, but the night clubs as well, I will have to watch myself. Puking on oneself is not cool.

After dancing to the exact same tunes I would back at the Moosehead and learning a new French word or two from the locals, we toddled back up to campus and I tucked myself in. I started my trip out very lonely, but now it looked like it might not be so bad.

* French people are people from France. The Québecois do not like to be called French.

Sherbrooke 2009: The moving part.

2009-08-29T16:38:00.003-06:00

Well if everyone is not aware, I have taken myself to the Université de Sherbrooke in Sherbrooke, Quebec, for a semester. I am taking an Intensive French Language Course. I have decided to document my time in La Belle Province on this, my family-friendly titled blog, "Tits on the Radio." This edition captures the departure and travelling to Sherbrooke.

----

After saying my goodbyes to friends in Regina, I headed off to the airport in Regina with my mom. When it was time for me to go through security, my dear mother began to cry and tell me she was proud of me. Well, that maybe caused me to get a bit moist in the eyes myself. I walked away and knew that I would not be back until December. But it was a pretty good feeling.

I got on the plane in Regina and realized pretty quick it was not going to be pleasant. It maybe sat sixty people and I could tell that the seats were especially narrow. Sure enough, I got sat beside one of those douche-bags who thinks he can make claim to both of the armrests. You know what I am talking about, right? He gave me a look of "don't even try to be friendly," so I just cuddled up to the awkwardly curved window and tried to ignore him. All I could think was "thank the Lord above this is the short leg of the trip."

Eighty fun-filled minutes later, I was in Calgary airport. All I wanted was somewhere I could take a leak. I prowled all the way to the other end of the corridor to find that bathrooms were right back where I came from. Heading towards the bathroom door a quickening pace, blinded by the urge, I entered the facilities. First thing I notice is a lack of urinals, thinking they might be 'round some corner at the back or something. But the second (and most awkward) thing I notice are two thirty-something ladies staring at me through the mirror. Shamefully, I retired towards the door and got the hell out of there. But the case of the missing urinals was solved - I had simply entered the wrong bathroom.

After simultaneously standing and urinating in the bathroom next door (we gents can do that), I moved to the next item on my list of priorities: find a place to stretch out and get some shut-eye. My neighbour on the plane had my nerves wracked enough that sleeping was going to be a bit uncomfortable beside him. Therefore, I was drowsy. After I found a particularly long airport bench to lay down on, I was ready to nap. A man who had spent a bit too much time in the Chili's bar had other ideas. He sat at the bench next to me and decided to strike up a drunken conversation with a younger lady who was fairly unwilling to talk to him. Talk of your loud! He was roaring like John Cole on the horn at 7 AM. I didn't get to nap, but I did learn that he hadn't drank in 2 years and he could not handle the alcohol. Apparently the appeal of drinking alone in an airport Chili's in Calgary was more than he could resist.

Well I eventually was back on the airplane to head for Montréal. This time I was much happier, with an aisle seat and a comfy leather chair. And Air Canada has those convenient personal LCD screens that you can watch. I watched a recording of the CBC National news and found a "Motown Greatest Hits" album on that machine to listen to. I dozed off somewhere during "Please Mr. Postman" and was awoke by the shouting "STOP!" of Diana Ross about an hour later. The rest of the flight was as uneventful, but I was getting increasing nervous about my arrival in Montréal.

Once I got to Montréal and grabbed my baggage, my next challenge would be the public transit system, which would get me from the airport to the hostel where my bus to Sherbrooke was meeting me. Luckily, the lady at the "?" booth was able to tell me what buses to take and where to get on the Metro (the subway). I was still contemplating just getting a taxi to minimize my fears. The $35.00 cab fare to downtown was not as plausible in my mind as the $2.75 for up to two hours of transit use, so I found the bus I needed. I texted a few friends back home about my fear of getting lost in Montréal, so if my body was found in the St. Lawrence River, it would not be a complete shock to everyone. Anyways, three buses, an amazing experience on the Metro (wow- cleaner and faster than I imagined), and a three minute walk to the hostel, I got myself to where I needed to be without catching a single STD. It is nearing noon and I have still only slept the length of half a Motown compilation album. I was frightfully dreary.

Turns out I was one of only two Anglos on the charter bus of exchange students headed to study at l'Université de Sherbrooke. I stuck out like a sore thumb; people avoided sitting with me because I was obviously going to be tough to talk to. The bus got to Sherbrooke, I found my room, made my bed, and collapsed. I slept from about 3 until 10 PM, then I sat on my computer for a couple hours before going to bed again until noon the next day.

Travelling had played me out. Screw sight seeing; I have 4 months and I needed my rest.

Family Trip IV: The Hoov

2009-02-24T16:06:00.004-06:00

After we spent a few days keeping it real on Pender Island, a decision was made to hit up the main land. A trip to Vancouver, if you will. The day was not quite as satisfying as the trip to Victoria. Like a 6th grade teacher, I have put together a report card for the day. A grade of ‘C’ means that portion of the day met expectations.

Ferry Ride. Although it was a painfully early start to the day, the two-and-a-quarter hour ride seemed fairly short and enjoyable. When we got on the ferry, the receptionist from the clinic remembered who I was and was more than chatty. Great, great people, I tell you. This ferry is a bit bigger than one connecting Vancouver Island to Pender, so there were a couple T.V.’s, a gift shop, and a restaurant onboard. Plus the ability to get away from your family when you are at wit’s end makes the trip easier than, well... I’ll let you finish that analogy. C+.

Taxi Ride. Our cabbie was not very interesting and apparently it costs 80 bones to get a lift to downtown Vancouver from the ferry terminal. Why don’t they just bend ya over? D.

Hop-on, Hop-off City Bus Tour. Basically, you can get on and off this bus tour as you please, and buses come to every stop every 45 minutes so you can hop back on. Too bad 2/3’s of the stops were hotels. Doubly crappy was the recorded “tour” we received while the bus driver rammed his was through the downtown. It certainly made me appreciate our tour of Victoria. D-.

Stanley Park and Vancouver Aquarium. First hop-off of the bus tour. I have drove through Stanley Park before, and I was aware it was one of the largest urban parks in North America. Navigating through the park seemed easy by vehicle; on foot, not so much. We spent 10 minutes trying to find mother a bathroom and then we magically happened to stumble across the aquarium. The aquarium was just real, real nice and it was unfortunate the fucking bus tour caused us to rush through. I did have enough time to learn that an otter could one day be my best friend. C.

Capilano Suspension Bridge and Park. I had been here before as well, so I put it into our itinerary for the rest of the family’s sake. I think I enjoyed it more than the other 3. Mom hadn’t dressed properly for the day and was frozen by this point, so she was a bit of a Debbie Downer. Dad (haha) was scared shitless on the suspension bridge; I haven’t seen him like that since a gondola ride we took the in Rockies about 12 years ago. It is a nice piece bit of rainforest that I would never tire to visit. A.

Taxi Ride. This time, our cabbie was rocking out to some 70s love-making music. He was quite interested in what farming was all about and how a town of 300 people operates. He was the funniest Somalian I have ever met. A+.

Ferry Ride. I couldn't fall asleep. Some woman nudged me just as I was dozing off to help her figure out the password for her iPod. Bitch. F.

Advice for all those going to tour Vancouver for the first time: DON'T do the bus tour. Instead, check out Gas Town and Capilano on your own. If time permits, stop by Stanley Park. Overall rating for the day: C. No better than I expected.

P.S. If in the slim chance Dr. Stephen Kenny is reading this, I saw you coming out of the bathroom at the Vancouver Aquarium.

Family Trip III: lentils, lackadaisy & largesse.

2009-02-19T15:34:00.015-06:00

After our big day in Victoria, we as a family unit decided to lay low for the next couple days and just enjoy the the peacefulness of Pender Island. Down at the grocery store, I had purchased some lentil and rice soup mix, so I planned on throwing that together for lunch, and perhaps try to get the hot tub working. More or less, we would just hang out as a family, maybe play some cards, go for a walk and the like.

Well, I started the day by puttsing around the kitchen throwing together this soup, which smelt extremely herbal and organic. I briefly wondering if this was some kind of "special" soup the locals had pawned off on me. It had been on the stove for a while, so I grabbed a spoon to try my concoction.

KLAZAAM!!

Within two minutes of placing the spoon in my mouth, my throat was swelling up. I started wheezing, and I knew instantly that I was having a anaphylactic reaction. The culprit was none other than the lentils. To make a long story short, Mom and Dad rushed me to the clinic, the doctor gave me some steroids and I was told it could have been a heck of a lot worse. Anyways, I now have an epi-pen. If you know how many times I have lost my cell or my keys, you know damn well I will lose this epi-pen faster than Taylor gets out of the kitchen at prep time.

Aside from that little scare, a few days were spent doing very little of anything at all. I spent quite a bit of time laid back with the family. Walking down by the ocean is pretty cool. Clayton and I put sticks in the sand, so we could see how the tide comes in and out. I know, pretty cheesy but we rock face. Touring the island, playing several versions of the "-opolies" (wineopoly, dogopoly, hold'em-opoly, and UK monopoly), and eating comsumed a fair amount of time. I am sad to realize that it will be uncomfortable reading outdoors when I get back to Regina.

Since we have been here, my mom has dragged us into a dozen gift shops and souvenir stores. Let me tell you, if you have been in one Canadian souvenir shop, you have been in them all. Below is a briefing of every souvenir shop in Canada.

1. "Droppings." I don't really know where this disgusting idea came from, but apparently foreigners (certainly not day-tripping Canucks) love to munch down on the fake poop of wildlife. Moose, deer, elk, beaver, bear. You name it, its got a bag of chocolate crap. And guess what? Crack open a sack of these delights, and the poop all looks and tastes the same. I guess the Asians will never know the difference. However, the Europeans may not be fooled.

2. Maple leaf. Apparently when people think of Canada, they think maple leaves. I guess there is one on our flag. Lots of flags have stars or stripes, but only one has the maple leaf, hence the connection to Canada. Only the maple leaf will you find on every rack in the shop. Mugs, sweaters, key fobs, bookmarks, boxerbriefs. Everything is stamped with the 11-pointed leaf. And apparently 'maple' in general is indeed Canadian. 17 varieties of maple syrup, in a handful of different sizes take up a corner near the back. Even maple flavoured cookies cut in, you guessed it, the shape of a leaf. Seems overboard, but at least these cookies taste like they are suppose to. I doubt the moose droppings taste like shit.

3. RCMP paraphenilia. I really don't get this one. I found more figurine mounties in downtown Victoria than I did at the RCMP museum in Regina. NOT kidding.

4. Beer and pot. I guess we are known for drinking lots of beer. And maybe Canadians just love to point out anything we might have that is just a bit better than the Americans. In the big scheme of things, many places have better beer and more drinkers than Canada. But shhhhh, the asians don't need to know that. And although not a big seller, there will always be at least one t-shirt with a marijuana leaf.

5. Vancouver 2010 gear. Note: 2009-2010 only. In Winnipeg airport, they have this shit. Oh well, I got sucked in and bought an Olympic track jacket.

We are off to Vancouver tomorrow, so I am sure there will be some delightful highlights of that trip to Asia minor.

P.S. I do not hate asians. There are just lots of them on the west coast.

Family Trip II: Victoria

2009-02-17T12:53:00.000-06:00

We arose early on our second day of the trip (Monday) to get back to Vancouver Island. Uncle Glen had a vehicle for us to use, so we didn't need the Explorer anymore. To get the rental back on time, we had to catch the 7:45 AM ferry. Even though I got ten hours of sleep, it was still tough to get out of bed.

Well, we got the vehicle returned with minimal amounts of family confrontation and we decided to head into the downtown of Victoria to kill the day. It was about ten o'clock by this point and our first stop was to be Miniature World, located in the elegant Empress Hotel. I was interested to see what it would be like, because the pamphlet I had read about it looked to be about 30 years old. The first display? An outer-space scene set in 2212. And the place hadn't changed since approximately 1984. My thoughts: "This place is goddamn ridiculous." The hilarious computer graphics that appeared to be stolen from the original Zelda. I was wondering if this place was going to be worth the 12 bones it cost to get in.

After that awful "futuristic" model, we came into a room that looked much more appealing. There were recreations of historic battles, giant dollhouses, and a mini circus. The highlights for me were a 1/12 scale model of a working lumber mill and an interpretive set-up of the creation of the CPR railway. Knowing me, I had to check both the front and back of my undergarments I was so excited. All in all, mini world was worth it.

After stopping quickly as Sam's Deli downtown (try it sometime!), we hopped on a bus for a tour of the city. It was impressive; I saw parts of the city I wouldn't have otherwise. The bus driver directed our attention to the "Golden Arches Dining Club," which was in fact the classiest McDonalds I've ever seen, or any fast food joint for that matter. Chandelier - need I say more? Later, we stopped and played with some seals at a marina and even got to drive by, count 'em, four castles. I honestly didn't think there were castles west of southern Ontario.

Mom wanted to go to the Royal British Columbia Museum, but she didn't want to actually tour the "second best natural history museum in North America as voted by the Smithsonian," she just wanted to wander around the gift shop (boo). She and dad decided to wander around there, but I dragged Clayton down to the excitement in front of the legislature. There was a military parade and cannons lined up overlooking the habour. Turns out it was the day of the Throne Speech, and it comes with much pomp and circumstance here in British Columbia. I see that B.C's Lieutenant Governor still gets decked out in the ceremonial dress, so that was neato.

The best part of my day was the two, middle-aged protesters at the outdoor Throne Speech ceremony. The guy was yelling something about military fraud. I didn't really understand, so I asked for one of their pamphlets. The handouts were not any more coherent, all typed up on a typewriter with shitty photos glued everywhere and random words scattered all over the place . Just a heads up, protesters: typewritten propaganda is not going to sell in 2009. I mean come on, its not Vietnam.

We ended the day in Victoria with a run through Josephine Tussard's (Madame's great great granddaugter) Royal London Wax Museum. Saw some interesting reproductions of people in history. Wax or not, Goldie Hawn looked more like Goldie Hawt. We headed back to the ferry terminal, but not without a stop for some rye and wine at the liquor store. I think I dozed off on the ferry for a while, but not before watching some kids my age parked right beside us in their Volkswagen van make out for about ten minutes.

It was only 6 PM, but my day was essentially over. I was pooped. Will I ever get caught up on my sleep?

Lessons of the day: 1. "Futuristic" displays eventually become realllly lame. 2. Using a typewriter to persuade will lead to minimal success.

Family trip: "I will give you a ride."

2009-02-16T00:42:00.000-06:00

I didn't even know if I should leave Saskatchewan for the break. Would it be worthwhile to go with the family somewhere and potentially not do a single stitch of homework?

It looked like I was going to regret it. I got home Friday night and I had people I wanted to see but I wasn't going to be able to work them all in. Because Friday was my only night at home and not everyone was back from school yet, I pouted and decided to retire to bed by 9:30, angry and tired. If only I wasn't going on this family trip, I would be able to socialize with people I don't get to see everyday. It looked like I was going to regret it.

Skipping ahead to the next evening, we were on the road to Winnipeg to catch our flight. The four of us plus grandma (she was bringing the vehicle back to Gainsborough) were packed into the Honda. I was sitting right beside Clayton and we were bitching back and forth by the time we got to the 9-mile corner. We got to the airport at 12:30 AM, and our flight didn't leave until 6:30 AM, and I hadn't slept. I was sitting in a hard chair at a table in the Tim Horton's, trying to figure out how much sleep I could possibly get in the next 24 hours. Like FUUUCK. It looked like I was going to regret it.

About a dozen hours later, and several frustrating encounters with the family (close quarters like coach on an airplane can add to frustration) we were in Victoria. We needed to pick up our rental vehicle and then we could be off to Pender Island. I looked out the window of the arrivals area and the sun was shining and there was no snow on the ground. Things were looking good. However, my dad seemed to mix up the booking for the car and we had no mode of transportation reserved. I was going to regret this trip.

We eventually got a Ford Explorer (note: name drop) and before I knew it, we were on the ferry to Pender Island. I had my vans checkered shoes on, faded blue jeans avec a knee hole, and my big, fuck-off wool button-up grey sweater. I thought I looked like a walking granola bar. But by the time I got to the grocery store on the island, I realized I looked like a poseur compared to the hippies and slightly-weird crowd that I saw. If it wasn't for my wool sweater, I would have stuck out like a sore thumb. The rest of my family, however, did. I think I am going to by my father a scarf and my mom, a toque. Maybe then they will blend in.

Every person that chooses to live on this island must be a white, liberal, eco-friendly, organic-loving, pot-tolerant hippie. In this medium sized grocery store, it had the largest selection of granola and oatmeal I had ever seen. Not to mention the aisle devoted to fair-trade coffee and exotic teas. And their vehicles! I laughed out loud when I saw 70-something Volkswagen van on the ferry. But it is not the only one I have seen; I have seen dozens since. I would purchase one if I was convinced it would work in sub-freezing temperatures.

On first impression, I love the people and the simplicity of life. I saw a sign on a public announcement bulletin board which simply read "I will give you a ride." I don't know what it means or why it was hung up for all to see. Regardless, I decided to make it my slogan for the duration of the trip.

I get a kick out of this place. Maybe I am not going to regret this family vacation so much after all.

You know what really rattles my cage? Pancakes.

2009-01-29T14:01:00.001-06:00

Some of you may have heard me ranting about this before. I thought it would be something I could elaborate on my blog with. So here it goes. You need to do this exercise in a small group.

Raise your hand if you like pancakes. No no no, I didn't say "if you eat pancakes." Raise your hand if you like pancakes.

Take a look around and the hands raised. Now, a third of the people with their hands raised are lying. Half of the raised hands are people who are confused about what they really like. The remaining 1/6 of people may actually enjoy the taste of pancakes.

Pancakes are simply egg, milk, flour. Combined together, the blandest pastry know to North America is produced. How could anyone actually crave the taste of pancakes? Maybe if you think you like pancakes, you actually just need the sugar rush from the maple syrup.

I would be willing to argue that people who eat pancakes have a large amount of Liberal White Guilt (aka LWG); you would feel racist if you didn't like what Aunt Jemima has to offer. I am not entirely sure if anyone but white people actually claim to enjoy pancakes in the first place. But if you are scared of looking racist because you don't like pancakes, you can breathe a sigh of relief - LWG may very well have got Obama elected.

Things which happen to be conservative 1

2007-09-10T13:46:00.000-06:00

Lately I have been thinking about things (concrete or abstract) which I feel are favoured by a conservative outlook on life. Some are obvious and political, some are subtle and perhaps a bit silly. This list may continue to get longer.

- Pro-life.
- Circumcision.
- Wal-Mart.
- Wallpaper.
- Homophobia.
- Religion.
- Denial.
- Cartigans.
- Pocket watches.
- Wind instuments.

Imagine that

2007-07-09T14:07:00.000-06:00

I was watching Live Earth on Saturday, and I must say, this speech absolutely rocked me and sent shivers up my back. I loved so much, I went to youtube and transcribed what she said for everyone to read. I would love to hear comments. Enjoy!

- - - - - -

FROM MELISSA ETHERIDGE'S PERFORMANCE AT LIVE EARTH; 07/07/07

America! What happened to us? I mean the last thing I remember was in eighth grade, right? I was in about eighth grade and I remeber, I remember that was the first time I'd heard about this 'global warming' stuff, right? This 'whatever, something's gonna happen, like, in the future.'

I remember sitting in my eighth grade social studies class saying "Oh yea, I'm sure glad that's gonna be taken care of, so when I become an adult, I don't have to worry about this global warming stuff. I'm glad they're taking care of that."

Yeah, 'cause people are doing things back then, because it was America - because it was America, people were doing things. People were standing up when it was an unjust war. People were standing up when justice was not being served.

You college students were standing up and marching, and they were being shot and killed for an unjust war.

You know what else happened? I remember back when I was a kid, I remember we had a president who was a criminal. You remember that? Do you remember that, 'cause I remember, because America rose up and said ["no way!"] I mean, we'll do alot of things, but our demorcracy is sacred.

What happened to us? I mean, wasn't it to be the year 2000 and we were gonna have like, flying cars and stuff?

What happened to us?

Or maybe it's because we don't have time, maybe 'cause I remember when the 70's and 80's came and it became really important for me to work hard, to have a job and have a credit card. That was important, and I can remember when I got my credit card, right?

And so maybe, maybe back then, when they got rid of that president, maybe when they stopped that unjust war, maybe they weren't in debt, maybe they had time.

Maybe that's what's different - our undying need to consume.

And consume.

And create things that people can consume.

I dunno... what happened to us? I want to know, I want to know, 'cause I think we can do better than that, America. I know we can do better than that.

I know that tomorrow morning, I know that tomorrow morning we're going to do better than that.

I know that Monday morning, when we all go back to work, we're going to be looking for the truth.

The truth, the truth is what sets us free; the truth is what rises to the top. When justice, when justice is being obstructed, Americans rise up to seek the truth. I know that about my country. Yeah!

Imagine that.

Imagine all of us rising up on Monday morning saying "Enough - enough! I don't care if my credit cards are maxed out, I am stopping now and saying 'enough!' I am changed."

That's right, imagine that, baby, imagine that.

Flack with property tax

2007-06-04T13:54:00.000-06:00

by J.D. Cole - REDVERS OPTIMIST
Many statistics suggest Saskatchewan has the worst education system in Canada. Numbers indicate our province has the lowest funding from the provincial government than any other province - that is to say a large majority of the education coffers are filled with property taxes, as opposed to income and sales tax.

Property taxes: Tax which is paid on privately owned property, with the amount based on local tax rates and the assessed property value. In lay man's terms, a farmer who owns several sections of land pays much more property tax than the professional who owns a home in the neighbouring town. This uneven process of funding something so fundamental as education is beyond the point of rationality.

Using property taxes to any degree is nothing less than an unbalanced collection of revenue for the education system. What's more is the fact that Saskatchewan has the highest education property taxes in the nation, both on a per capita basis as well as a percentage of the gross domestic product. Property assessment revenues in Saskatchewan account for 60% of the total K - 12 education cost in the province. In a brief comparison to other provinces, the next highest figure in this category is 32.1%. Seven provinces and territories sit at 0%; they simply do not use property assessment as a means of funding the education system.

Although the provincial average of property tax to government funding (P to G) is 60:40, in our Southeast Cornerstone School Division (SECSD), this ratio is a staggering 90:10! Most other rural school divisions use well over the provincial property tax average of 60% as well.

Urban school divisions, on the other hand, receive much more provincial funding than their rural counterparts. This is simply because the property tax income in those school divisions is not enough to fund their school system. If urban school divisions sat at the P to G level of 60:40, every single one of their schools would be 50% underfunded.

Although it may seem like the obvious choice, you cannot lay all the blame on the school divisions. It is the provincial government which sets its level of funding to each school division, and then the school divisions adjust their budget accordingly. This spring, the provincial government allotted the SECDS $4.2 million in funding, which is much less than the previous allotted amount of approximately $9.6 million dollars. In fact, that is 56% cut to funding.

In response, the SECDS Board of Education raised the mill rate by 1.6 mills, which equates to an influx of approximately $4.7 million dollars of property tax income. This action was in an effort to maintain a similar level of revenue as the previous year.

Everyone may not agree on the financial effectiveness of the our school division, and perhaps the thinking of our school division is along the lines of "spend the money as rationally as we obtain it." This, however, is an entirely different argument. The conclusion being drawn is the outright unprincipled funding of the primary and secondary education system in Saskatchewan through property taxation.

Maybe someday, in a perfect world, the provincial government will take the lead of 7 other provinces and territories and abolish the use of property taxes to fund the education system. It is everybody's EQUAL responsibility to make sure the youth of tomorrow have a satisfactory education. Just like every other socially funded program, the most equitable avenue of funding is through the use of income and sales taxes.

Crazy 8

2007-06-03T20:19:00.000-06:00

Well, I would like to estimate that approxomately 83% of people southeast of Stoughton have heard about the infamous path that only the bravest of souls pass. It is in fact so reknowned that it has almost become part of our culture. The entity of which I am referring to is (any guesses?) Highway #8.

For those who are unfamiliar with the number 8 highway, it can be summed up as follows: It is a highway that runs north/south from the US border through Carievale, past Storthoaks, through Redvers, up to Moosomin yadda yadda onwards. It is a decent highway, except for an awful stretch north of Storthoaks towards Redvers.

Since I have started work in Redvers, I have become all too familiar with that road. I can't believe that every day, I drag my '87 lincoln across 8 miles of nothing less than the worst highway in Saskatchewan and quite possibly the western world.

I remember the first time driving the blasted road on my way to work this summer, far before I was as aquainted with it as I am now. Once you hit the shitty part of the number 8, there is a sign that says "Broken pavement - 13 km" and you think "Oh, okay thats not hard to handle."

WRONG.

In fact, your speedometer immediately dips down to 75 as you realize this gravel patched washboard is not going to be a walk in the park. Hell, its just tunnel vision for me; white knuckles on the steering wheel and trying to keep an eye out for craters in the road.

Then you feel like you have been on this absolutely shitty piece of crap-road forever, and then you hit regular highway again. You can sigh relief. BUT WAIT. The highway people strategically place a little bit of an up date on the side of the road. "Broken pavement - 7 km." Fuck. You look a few hundred yards ahead and see a dusty trail of fear ahead. No, you thought you were out of the woods, so to speak. In reality, the worst is yet to come.

And it is only more fun in the rain. Rain + gravel washboard = wrecked suspension and fucked up alignment.

I hear they may be fixing this highway this summer, although the government refuses to give a start date on the project. I don't really want it fixed, it would kinda take the little bit of adventure I have in my life away. On the bright side, when the construction begins and the detours are set up, it will be the first time that it highway construction doesn't cause you to drive any slower than you were before.

To number 8 travellers, keep a tight ass and a stiff upper. Til next time,

Minister of Highways and Shitways.

Agricore finally reaches agreement

2007-05-10T13:17:00.000-06:00

J.D. Cole - Redvers Optimist

MAY 9 - This was a big week for the two giants in Canadian grain handling, as they appear to have finally come to an agreement on a revised takeover offer.

Agricore United (AU) has said it agreed to be acquired by the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool Inc. (SWP) for $1.8 billion, including debt. According to Agricore United officials, the Wheat Pool offered $20.50 in cash for each Agricore common share. SWP confidentially submitted this offer on May 6, and was accepted on May 9.

This acceptance comes immediately following the termination of an agreement between Agricore United and James Richardson International (JRI), in which JRI offered to acquire the Agricore United common shares at a price of $19.25 per share. JRI did not exercise its "right to match" the current SWP bid, indicating that JRI did not wish to submit another offer.

All three parties have indicated that they are pleased with the results of the agreement. Some of the assets that the SWP acquires from AU will then be sold to JRI. Hartley Richardson, Chairman of JRI stated, "This is an excellent outcome for JRI and for the shareholders of Agricore United. This transaction enables JRI, which will remain wholly owned by the Richardson family, to achieve its goal of acquiring high quality facilities in strategic locations."

SWP President and Chief Executive Officer Mayo Schmidt said, "We have developed a comprehensive and winning solution for prairie agriculture and for our respective shareholders. We can now move forward with momentum."

Some conditions to the agreement are still pending. In the coming days, AU shareholders will be notified of the new offer. The Agricore United Board is recommending that AU shareholders tender their shares to the revised SWP offer.

At press time, neither Agricore United or the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool Inc. has released any information regarding the security of their employee's positions.

Saskatchewan United Agri-pool!

2007-05-09T20:31:00.000-06:00

Holy hell it has been a while since I've done anything on this site. I forgot my bloody user name, it had been so long.

Anyways, I won't stall with the sentimental shit and cut right to the chase: Agricore and the Wheat Pool. Yea, we're all shocked. Finally those stupid kids over at Sask Wheat Pool got their crap together and made an offer Donald Trump wouldn't turn down. And Ag U decided that maybe they aren't too good for those cooperative gappers out at the wheat pool.

But what I really wanted to touch on is the comments that came from James Richardson Inc. Some quote I heard on the radio says that JRI is "very happy" with the deal the pool made with Agricore. That is utter bullshit. How would you feel if your girl chose to be with you instead of this other, nerdy guy? Well, probably pretty relieved, and happy of course. Then what if the nerdy guy came back to town and your girlfriend "terminated" your relationship to be with the nerdy guy? I would be willing to bet you feel like the biggest fucking loser. Ever.

Now pretend your lady-friend is Agricore, you are JRI, and the nerdy little fucker is Sask Wheat Pool. Well, as of this morning, Agricore terminated its contract with JRI and took the pool's new offer, leaving JRI high and dry. And the family of JR prolly feels like shit right now. Good thing they pretend to be cool with everything...NOT. Those little inbred Richardson offspring are likely grieving in their beds of money not spent on acquiring the largest grain handler in Canada.

Morale of the story: When you get pissed off when the whole country is watching you, don't put a little smile on. Start some shit in the media!

I am also not excited about comments made by Sask Wheat Pool today along the lines of this: "We can't guarantee the new company's offices will remain in Sask." FUCK YOU SWP. You are loyal like Russia.

Keep a tight ass and a stiff upper!

Nathaniel,
Minister of Agriculture and Food

p.s. Working at the local newspaper, the article I wrote on this was far less opinionated, with minimal swearing. This is my new outlet for expressing my feelings about a newspaper that is as neutral as Switzerland in the second World War.

4 April 2007: The History Paper

2007-04-10T15:37:00.000-06:00

I am sitting at the desktop at my home home (you all know what I mean) and I decided that I would return to my earlier days of blogging. This decision was partly due to my recent completion of my last assignment, partly due to the fact that it is much to early to begin studing for exams, and partly because the advent and coincidental explosion of Facebook has changed the reputation of bloggers from lifeless retards to philsophical hippies. How about that extremely long sentence? My history 100 prof says that my long sentences distract him from my ideas.

My history prof. Let me speak about my history prof.

William J. Brennan, member of the faculty of arts in the history department, has spent the last several months lecturing me on the history of the prairie west. Being from rural Saskabush and a bit of a know it all, I quickly became the shining star of this class. I would answer and ask questions; he was particularily impressed when I knew the date of the founding of the United Church. (People people people, especially my neighbours, I am not being conceited here. Who would brag about their extensive knowledge of the United Church? It just so happens that it was founded exactly 63 years before I was born.) Okay, lets get back to the point. Within a few weeks, I figured I could easily pull an 80-something out for this class, right?

Wrong.

Our first assignment, worth 15%, was an outline for the major essay assignment due several weeks down the road. The outline was to be 3 pages, yadda yadda double space, font 12, the standard. So, I spent a considerable amount of time on this thing, and felt I had a better than decent outline put together. Oh no, I sure didn't. It was false hope at its finest. I get the fucking thing back with a big ole 53 scribbled on the back page.

Some of the comments:
"Your introduction was not very thorough; rather vague,"
"Spelling and grammar was overlooked," and
"Many sentence fragments."

That fucker! (the swearing comes out). Could somebody please tell me the last time you wrote an essay outline in full sentences and proof-read it? How about writing a full-length introduction? He wanted a damned mini-essay on my paper that I haven't written!! "Many sentence fragments." You asshole, if you wanted full sentences, maybe you should have wrote you comments in a similar fashion. Its like a math teacher tallying up your score wrong on a midterm! I should have ripped out a piece of scrap paper, wrote "53%" on it, shit on it, and told him to overlook that.

Oh, the actual paper? Got a 65. He can lick my goddamned back pussy. The bum gravy is exceptionally bitter this point of the evening.

Anyways, I forgot what I was going to actually going to blog about tonight. Maybe as I keep typing away I will remember what the hell my original plan was.

Ah yes, the Men's World Curling. With all the papers I have been writing lately (and hopefully not shitting the bed on *fingers crossed*) I have not had a chance to watch the most beautiful, annual demostration of televised team sport known to rural prairie dwellers. Anyhoots, the Canadian men's team (of which I will not go into too much detail because most are not avid curling fans) have beening shooting the lights out. From what I got from the internet, they were undefeated at 8 and 0, slaughtering the oppo and not finishing a single game due to the other teams forfeiting!

As I lay down to watch it tonight with Knobby and Lor Lor, I was expecting to witness something that would fill me with much Canadian pride. Instead, we lost to the Americans. What a bleeding joke! They really played a nipperkin of a game, but the fucking sods made a nice shot to win. I have officially declared myself unable to withstand a Canadian loss on television.An evening filled with much disappointment has taken place.

May the socials of this Easter weekend fill me with much gladness and rye. Until next time, which will likely be tomorrow evening when I am bored again.

Nathaniel Jonathan Douglas Cole.
Minister of Jinxing Televised Rock-Throwing Events