Forgetting to remember.

“That guy looked like Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” I remarked about a customer who had just left the bike shop.

Yann shook his head, “I don’t remember that movie.”

“You watched it with me! As soon as I show you a photo you’re going to be like, ‘Oh! Oh! I ‘member.'”

How convenient is it to have a smartphone on hand to jog somebody’s shitty memory? Except for when your garbage short-term memory causes you to forget where you put your phone.

Continue reading “Forgetting to remember.”

Not to be cocky, but I’m pretty titillating.

With the recent surge in daily hits, I figured it was about time for an “about me” page to help any new readers decide whether I am “right for them”.

If you have extra time to piss away, do you want to be pissing here? I have carefully assembled a team of 269 words to help you make this decision.

What’s left to do is finding one or two recent photos of myself to help people decide whether they’d be able to stand seeing more photos of me.

For now, here’s a vintage gif of me licking a plastic hippo’s butt.

buttlick

La Pensée du Jour.

The title of this entry makes me sound sophisticated, right?

I think this is why Anglo-Canadians like to randomly incorporate French when writing. I once read a menu that was printed entirely in English except for “haricots verts”. Oh, green beans, you mean?

I’ve frequently seen sandwich boards announcing the “soup du jour”. Yes, Anglo-Canadians are refined enough to know that “du jour” is French for “of the day”.

But the word “soup” is English. The French word for soup is…

Continue reading “La Pensée du Jour.”