The buck stops out front. put out a special weather statement for Victoria this weekend: A Father’s Day Edition heatwave. A lot of sweaty daddies out there today. I was hot but not bothered. I believe the temperature peaked at 27° C, which is small potatoes compared to a regular Montréal summer day, but hot potatoes nonetheless. I especially enjoy not having to pack extra clothes as if I were about to embark on an Arctic expedition when I go for a spin around town on my bike.

Rolling over hot tarmac under blue skies is what has kept me occupied over the past week, with a hint of indoors bouldering. And, of course, I’m still employed. As a matter of fact, after two years of having Part-Time status, I finally have Full-Time status. This comes with additional extended health benefits, bonus care days, guaranteed full-time hours, and fame–although that isn’t guaranteed.

Anything is possible, except when it comes to getting to the new bouldering gym in Langford via the neighbouring Starlight Stadium parking lot. When Nic and I realized that we’d parked on the wrong side, we figured we could deal with a bit of walking to get to the building. What we couldn’t handle, though, was the chainlink fence that was barring us from getting to the gym. As climbers, it’d have been logical to just climb over the dang fence. If only it weren’t for the possibility of embarrassing ourselves in front of the Crossfitters doing burpees on the Starlight Stadium side of the lot! We sheepishly turned around and returned to the car to travel an extra 2km to get to the correct parking lot.

This is why I don’t like Langford. The city had potential until incompetent city planners fucked things up ten to twenty years ago. There are bike lanes, but they are incorporated in four-lane highways where delivery trucks whiz by at speeds above 70km/h. If you ignore all the traffic, homogeneous townhouses, and strip malls, it is a beautiful place.

But it doesn’t matter, because Nic and I went to Langford to spend time flailing indoors.

Here is a fuzzy Nic doing what the climbing community refers to as “crushing it.” With my tiny rubber hand, I am doing what society regards as “being weird.”

Allow my micro-hand to guide your fall!

Shortly after that photo was taken, I lost my hand. It’s about an inch long and functions primarily as a pen topper. As far as I know, it is still attached to the pen. Unlike the pen, which can be replaced, the toy store no longer carries this useless yet handy trinket. I could probably order a new one (or ten) online. Instead, I am going to use this incident to introduce a list of the last few things I ordered online:

  • Sexually Transmitted Infections
  • Synthetic sperm whale turd diffuser oil
  • Cologne spray set in the scents: Play Doh, turpentine, and ambergris

Upon receiving them, I immediately dispatched these items to the victors of last month’s Most Curious Curio Contest. When I told Danica of Framed Buttholes fame that her prize was on the way, she said, “It better be butthole related,” to which I responded, “Hmm… vaguely.”

The strangest thing about this is that Danica is on TikTok.

I deserve recognition for my packaging job:

It’s Toblerone-shaped and took me an hour to craft! Danica called it suspicious-looking. Imagine if the bottle had shattered during transportation: other people’s mail would have been imbued with the stench of synthetic sperm whale turd, which is surprisingly pleasant. I smelled it before I sent it, as I did these three mini cologne sprays:

Jessie’s Cup of Opportunity brought her the opportunity to smell weird. I’ll warn you that if you want to check out the Demeter website, do so in incognito mode. Otherwise, Demeter ads will haunt you for weeks. I had to revisit the Bradford Exchange website just to get the Demeter ads to stop. I realize this could’ve been remedied with the clearing of cookies, but I don’t mind seeing ads for Elvis ornaments.

Finally, what was I to send the person who owns a replica of a dick belonging to someone who has purportedly taken hundreds of STI tests?

Unlike the dildo, these probably weren’t proudly made in America.

To the other 16 participants who won nothing, not to worry… the real loser here was me because I did not account for how expensive it would be to ship three separate parcels. GAH! Thank Puberty-era Jesus none of the three winners lived outside of Canada!

The next time I hold such a contest, THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE WINNER.

Anyway, sometimes, upon returning home from my various adventures, I have to pass a family of deer snacking on my landlords’ flowers. It happens often enough that it’s not blog-worthy. However, I happened up this buck who’d taken inspiration from Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose with what I believe to be nylon garden trellis netting wrapped in his antlers.

I also took a video. Sadly, I was high on soft drugs at the time of filming and lost the mental capacity to hit Save.

The first person I sent this photo to was my neighbour, in case he wanted to step out of his home to see it in real life. Well, he cared so little that he did not respond to the message. Granted, because deer are considered pests in Victoria, this sight doesn’t quite tug on one’s heartstrings the same way a dolphin entangled in a fishing net would.

Good thing I have a blog so that more people can also not give a fuck.

Happy Solstice to my shady readers!

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