Brown Disaster Aisle 5

Okay deuces...you'll be glad to know that I was not deterred by my last visit to No Frills...my local cut rate grocery store. During that visit I saw a dirt-wad of masterful proportions riding his freakin' bike through the produce section.
This morning I decided to venture to my favourite grocery store...they stock all the awesome President's Choice products, often at lower prices than their parent store Loblaws. It's a muggy Sunday morning...the store shouldn't be too busy, with people attending church and/or sleeping off Saturday nights sins.
I scored big this morning...the cart I got was broken so it was free - normally you have to pop a quarter into the cart to rent it for your shopping experience. This tactic is meant to deter people from stealing the carts to take their groceries home in...I gotta be honest, 25 cents does not appear to be a high enough price to keep the carts on the lot. What would Bubbles do?
Anyway, I began my sojourn through the produce aisle and proceeded with ease to work my way through the store. I spotted a till that was ready for me to make my purchases and headed that way. Little did I know what awaited me there. I was behind an older couple and as I started to unload my groceries one of the girls from another checkout told me I must have shit on my shoe. Yeah I'm pretty sure she said shit...she didn't soften the blow with poop or dung. At first I thought I must have tracked it in from somewhere...until I looked around and saw several small piles around a pillar in the middle of the store...apparently the trail went all the way down the health and beauty aisle, ending at till 8 where I had the misfortune to step in it.
Yes folks...it was 100% adult human feces. Someone felt the urge to purge and couldn't stem the tidal flow of pooh until they got home.
The checkout girl called for someone to clean it...I gotta say no one jumped at the opportunity. I was there for about 10 minutes and they were still standing around debating when I left.
I gotta say I feel for the person who couldn't hold it...that's the shits literally and figuratively. What a terrible feeling...I am personally thankful for my excellent sphincter control and don't blame the person who let her rip. Shit happens.
What gets the Dove all worked up was the reaction of the one little scrag at the till. She couldn't shut her mouth about it. She felt the need to tell everyone who came through her till about it and by the looks on their faces they were all thinking twice about their purchases. She also thought it was hilarious that I had stepped in some of the run off and also informed her clients of this...until she realized I was still their...she then tried to act concerned about whether or not I'd been able to get my shoes cleaned off...just how was I to do that? I told her I'd have to take care of it later...dumb bitch.
Fortunately I had another pair of shoes in my car and I was able to segregate my shoes for the ride home...where I hosed them off with the garden hose.
So the Dove of Hate is brewing a bristly browner for the Express Checkout girl and the slow reaction of the cleaning crew, who were probably playing "rock, paper, scissors" to figure out who would clean up the dung trail.
B-spot on the fecal front!

Tour de Produce

Alright folks it's time to get the Dove of Hate primed to drop a bristly browner on a total wankfest I encountered at my local grocery store.
I like to go the local "No Frills" in downtown Peterborough. You can get the goods for lower prices, you just have to bring your own bags and bag your own groceries. I like to slum it with the locals and save on luncheon meat so I gets jiggy wit it.
So this lovely Monday evening there I was minding my own business, pushing a shopping cart around the produce department when low and behold this ass-hammer comes riding his bike over to the potato display. Are you F*%kin' serious dude? It's a freakin' store...I don't want your shit-caked shoes let alone your mung infested bike rolling around on the floors. I'm not a psycho...but what the deuce? I couldn't frickin' believe it! You know what bugged me more...people were getting out of this assholes way so he could get through. Had I been closer I would've clotheslined him with some Polish Coil!
So look out above pale rider 'cause there's a brown cloud heading your way.
PS - Get a lock for your Supercycle and park it in the rack! WHUH!
B-spot on the edge

Picture This!

Hey Brahs, I'm just calming my nerves after a battle with "the man". Actually it was a woman...but really it's all about the establishment and I get a little irate when people who are bestowed a nano-smidgen of authority treat the general public like they're total morons.

Our story starts with a 77 year old woman attempting to pick up a registered letter from the post office. This particular 77 year old woman is my mother and she has never possessed a piece of photo identification. She has never had a drivers license and she does not own a new healthcard. Here in Canada we have universal health care and our old health cards do not require a picture...if you lose your card or it is damaged you have to replace it with one of the newer cards that does have a photo.
My mother had difficulty voting in the fall due to this lack of photo ID as well and was nearly denied the right to vote. I digress...
Anyway having missed the postal persons knock yesterday my mother had to go to a local postal outlet to retrieve her letter. This letter contained my mothers new passport...which is photo ID. Taste that irony!
At the outlet my mother presented her notice for the registered letter and the woman behind the counter immediately asked her for a piece of photo ID. My mother replied that she didn't have any ID with a photo on it, but did posses several other pieces of ID to verify who she was.
The woman heaved a tired sigh and told her she could not have her registered letter...which contained her passport...which was photo ID.
She did offer a solution though...did my mother know anyone at staff at this particular store who could verify who she was? Or had she ever had any prescriptions filled at their drug counter? If so she could then release the letter to her.
Odd?
My mother answered no to both options and I piped up that I was her daughter and I possessed photo ID and I could verify who she was...I was flatly refused. To which I replied, "That's a bit ridiculous." I gotta say at this point I was getting really pissed off.
I found it hard to believe that someone who had filled lets say my moms medical marijuana prescription or checked her out when she was purchasing an enema could verify her identity, but not a family member with copious amounts of ID.

And then some other broad who was mailing things piped in with..."That's the way it is all over the world."
Number one mind your own business, number the deuce...if you're not going to help the situation cram it with walnuts douche-tard.
Then the female warlock behind the counter started going off on a rant directed at me stating that,"I wouldn't think it was ridiculous if someone stole my identity and then sold my house."
Okay, number one I don't have a house, number the deuce if a criminal is bent on doing something they're gonna do it...number the thrice if you don't know what I look like before you hand over something to me how do you know that picture coincides with that persons information?...How do you know that my identity hasn't already been stolen by someone who has made a fake picture ID? How do you sleep on your pointy hair?

The helpful mouth piece who informed me that photo Id was a world wide phenomenon said to take my mother to get a new health card, because she did that for her 90 year old mother.
Yeah you're right we should get a new health card, since the old one still works, that sounds like a great waste of government resources. Wow you're awesome.

After a few more rude and unapologetic comments from the postal representative (shocking I know!) we left empty handed.
When we got home my mother called Passport Canada and then Canada Post.
They both offered her a list of Id that would suffice (without pictures) in order for her to claim her letter.
She then called the postal outlet and informed the woman she had just dealt with of what she had learned from Canada Post. The woman then claimed that my mother had said she didn't have any ID at all and that she would have happily turned the letter over to her had she produced any other identification.
LIAR!
I was standing right there. The minute my mother said she did not have photo ID that was all she wrote, she presented no options and merely went on to extole the virtues of this requirement for avoiding fraudulent mail pick up.
They argued back and forth for awhile and then I took my mother for round two.
When we got to the counter my mother produced some address Id and went digging for her healthcard...the woman then informed my mother that she was to produce her birth certificate as she indicated on the phone...
LIAR!
My mothers birth certificate was in the envelope with her passport...she had to send the original to get her passport and had made that very clear. Finally after much eye-rolling and soul searching the lady finally relented and settled for a signature. She professed she was very worried about this affecting her job if she was doing something wrong...lady get off your high horse enough already. Finally she asked if she could open the passport to verify that my mother was who she claimed to be. The minute she saw the picture she breathed a sigh of relief that could have been heard round the county.
She then gave us a pamphlet outlining ID requirements and informed me that if eventually I would have to fill out some forms to complete my mothers postal transactions when she was incapacitated. Okay she didn't use the word incapacitated but it was implied and thoroughly inappropriate.

(It reminded me of the little douche at a local funeral home who took me aside after my dad died and told me I should start planning for my mothers funeral...
but that's another story.)

My point is that sure rules are rules but my mother is not the only one to fall into this category of not possessing a photo ID. She is not a criminal. Sure there are white haired fraud artists everywhere but merely asking for photo ID is not going to thwart the cunning of the criminal mind. I'm all about people doing their jobs and doing them well. But if you're working with the public you need to at least try and play nice.
That said I'm lockin' and loadin' the Dove of Hate to drop a curdled deuce of justice on people who let a crumb of power and control go to their pea brains! So watch the skies all of you power hungry fast food restaurant managers, government peons and middle managers...who have let a taste of power taint your environment the Dove has been holding it for a long time and it ain't gonna be pretty!
B-spot on the semi-anti-establishment front!
WHUH!

Truly Tasteless Jokes

Every Monday night I take an endurance cyclefit class. It lasts for 90 minutes and our instructor often calls upon us to tell jokes to help pass the time between intervals. There have been a few drunken Irish/Scottish jokes and husband/wife jokes and I came out with this gem I'd recently heard to share with the group....
"What has 50 legs and 5 teeth?"

"The front row at a Willie Nelson concert"



Yeah it's a groaner, I didn't say I was some kind of superior joke teller, but if they really knew about the first thoughts that popped into my head in the joke arena they would probably have me psycho-analyzed and heartily beaten with a sock full of dung.

Whenever someone says..."Do you know any good jokes?" My mind immediately jumps to my youth and the truly tasteless jokes that we're burned into my brain during the 1970's and 80's.
For Example:
"Why did they cancel the lepers hockey game?"
Punchline "There were too many face-offs in the corners!"

Yeah it's not nice..but don't blame me, I didn't make it up.

Some people are able to rattle off topical jokes at the drop off a hat. Maybe they belong to a water cooler culture? Maybe they practice at home in front of a mirror just in case they are called on to perform.

I can't help it life is cruel and bad jokes are a right of passage so put that in your back pack.
So excuse me if when I'm asked to come up with a joke I immediately think of Helen Keller, Dead Babies and Lepers. I know that giggling at and repeating these jokes will earn me a special place in hell; where I will suffer from horrible facial and physical disfigurements, as well as reduced mental capacity. Don't blame me if life is cruel and bad jokes are a right of passage!
So put that in your backpack haters! WHUH!
And please...if you can remember any other truly tasteless jokes of your generation...be a dear and share them with the other souls of the damned!
B-spot...on the politically incorrect northern front!

The Old Man

Excuse me while I get a little sentimental for a moment haters. It happens from time to time and it proves that despite what my mother told me, I do have a heart.
Two years ago on March 4, 2006 my dad died. He was only 73 years old. That's him on the left delivering the Peterborough Examiner in the 1940's. Did somebody say cuffs?
He was not an educated man or a wealthy man. He was a man of few words. The words he did chose were generally pretty fantastic.
Instead of saying anything to vulgar in times of unbridled rage he liked to blurt out the word "Balls!" Like if he dropped a nail through the boards in the deck he might scream out "Balls!" instead of the more common "Shit" or "Mofo" common to fathers of more recent generations. I gotta say the only person I ever heard use balls as a cuss word was my dad.
It's part of his legacy and I won't let it die.
He also had some dandy insults. My personal favourite was the term "Sickening puke." As in, " That little brat over there is one sickening puke." I'm sure you all know a few little turds who deserve to be referred to in this manner; so don't hold back let those little "S.P.'s" know how you feel.
My dad also loved to watch shows where amateurs would share their talents in hope of hitting it big. Particularly comedy shows, but he saw the odd American/Canadian Idol type show too.
We would frequently hear the phrase "Don't quit your day job" being hurled at the screen as the latest victim stumbled through their performance. I never got tired of this phrase, I couldn't help but giggle when I heard it. Sometimes he couldn't control himself and he'd toss that phrase at news anchors and weather men too. My old man had some "A" material.
I drove around Ireland with my parents in 1999. My parents would reminisce about an old comedy album (you know the really thick vinyl ones) that they use to listen to "down home" at my moms parents farm near Kingston. Just in case you weren't aware, it rains alot in Ireland. Every day we would see rain clouds - almost on cue one of my parents would slyly say
"Looks like rain up ahead."
To which the other would respond with one of the following lines:
"We're driving right into it." or the even more popular, "But it tastes like carbolic acid!"
Oh the hilarity. We did that routine for years after!
My dad wasn't a touchy feely senso-dad (not that there's anything wrong with that) but he tried to show his affection in his own way. One of my fondest memories is one of my older sisters and I would get into our pj's and our parents would take us to Mister Donut in our old Dodge Monaco station wagon. We would go in and get hot chocolate and a bowtie. A bowtie was a specialty at Mister Donut (that was the ultimate donut shop, best sign ever! Apparently it's still "Big in Japan") it was a donut pastry about the size of a honey bun, but with chocolate icing and whipped cream on it. So decadent. It looked like a really big bowtie so we would pretend it was one before we devoured them in the backseat of the wagon! Oh the 70's, nothing like filling the kids with sugar then sending them off to bed! Boo Yeah!
The picture on the left was taken in Ireland in county Cork.
Things I'm glad I got to do with my dad:
1. Walk along the River Corrib in Galway Ireland
2. Have a pint at the Guiness factory in Dublin
3. Climb Blarney Castle (it's not the climbing that'll get you it's trying to get back down!)
4. Change the oil in my old car
5. Watch any show where unknowns were trying to make it big - "Don't quit your day job!" (see above)
So here's to you Dad.
B-spot on the touchy feely side.

Charge it up!

This post originally started out as a tribute to one of the sweetest rides in town but got side tracked by the shabby batteries I purchased at a local dollar store.
I know what you're thinking haters..."What'd you expect from dollar store batteries B-spot?" Well, I can tell you that I expect those freakin' batteries to last long enough for me to squeeze off one shot of Peterborough culture before reading "battery exhausted" in my camera window. You can't tell me that the batteries were worn out by their trip from the dollar store into my camera. Hey Zeus! I carried them, they didn't even have to walk!
I digress... I know I'm a dingleberry for not being properly prepared for any photo op that presents itself. But I'm a little peeved about the fact these batteries will be going straight from the shelf to the hazardous waste depot. I'm not even sure if there are any hazardous chemicals in the damn things?
Anyway, I'll move on.
Peterborough is always seeing it's fair share of businesses coming and going. I'm always blown away by the loss of a long standing business in the Patch. I know my neighbours to the south in "the hood" think we only have one altruistic coffee shop up in Canada but we actually have a few major coffee shops. There's Country Style, Coffee Time and of course Tim Horton's.
Tim Horton's seems to be the front runner in the market but in some areas the other two competitors seem to hold their own. Peterborough has a few Country Style's left around. The best one ever was turned into a laundromat. A few years ago a Country Style took over an older building in Peterborough's downtown core. It was close to the marina and the Holiday Inn. It also hosted cruise nights for cars and motorcycles. On a warm summers eve you could breeze past it on the main street and see various cars with the engines spewing forth from their hoods or a sea of chrome Harleys...a feast for the motorheads eyes.
I was absolutely shocked when I noticed that this particular location was now closed. How could this be? It had such a loyal customer base! But then I realized...how could they compete in a town with roughly a dirty dozen Tim's?
In the photo above the former Country Style location is on the right hand side; the brown A-frame building with the red accents. It's hard to see in this picture but to the far left of this photo just down the street (about 100 metres) what's that looming on the horizon?
Yeah, you guessed it; Tim Horton's. These two coffee shops have co-existed on this strip for a few years, but I guess it just wasn't working out anymore. Tim Horton's has a few advantages: It is located right next door to the beer store. Why walk 100metres for your coffee after cashing in your empties of Lakeport when you can stumble a mere 12 metres to Timmy's for some sustenance?
Better yet head over to 2 for 1 pizza and get a slice to fill the whole that beer has left in your gutt. There is also this awesome dancing clown that hangs around outside the flower shop (also in the strip mall) enticing would be flower buyers to come peruse the foliage. Maybe if I buy some carnations she'll let me take her picture!
The above shot of the Tim Horton's next to The Beer Store was taking with the last dying breath of my AA rechargeable batteries. The red bike pictured here use to be a regular down the street at Country Style. Unfortunately this picture does not accurately capture the true beauty of this sweet ride. Don't worry haters, I can guarantee that there will soon be another opportunity to squeeze of some shots of this beast soon. This time I'll be prepared!
For the record, Country Style does have excellent coffee and some killer donuts. They have also been updating some of their locations as "bistros" where you can get some very delicious soups and sandwiches! So if you're cruising through the North don't be afraid to give them a try.
BOO YEAH!
B-spot in the frozen tundra!

Fast Forward!

I've figured it out kids, the reason for all of my problems. When I receive a "time-sensitive chain email" to forward to other people in my address book - I delete it. What I should be doing is sending it on to as many people as I can! Internet courtesy be damned! I want to be showered with good fortune and prosperity, like all these forwards promise. I'm the one who has been wrong all along! Foolish me! If only I had forwarded all of those emails to my friends think of all the greatness I would be wallowing in.
The most recent one simply said "Mental Feng Shui Lotus Touts". The Email - sent on my work account- was partially blocked but I looked it up on the "intraweb" to see what it was all about.
I was encouraged to send this to at least 6 people in 6 minutes. The numbered comments are those attached to this email mine are below in red...

Mental Feng Shui Lotus Touts:


ONE. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
(work you ass off and, bend over and take it with a smile)
TWO. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.
(remember paper bags aren't just for groceries-think of the unknown comic)
THREE. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.
(your not the boss of me)
FOUR. When you say, 'I love you,' mean it.
("freaky deakys need love too")
FIVE. When you say, 'I'm sorry,' look the person in the eye.
(and cross your fingers behind your back)
SIX. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
(it takes time for a good Private Investigator to dig up dirt)
SEVEN. Believe in love at first sight.
(believe in love at last call - keep your beer goggles close and beware of 12:30 princesses/princes)
EIGHT. Never laugh at anyone's dreams. People who don't have dreams don't have much.
(lets face it some dreams are funny know your audience, laugh when appropriate)
NINE. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.
(If you're getting hurt you need to decide on a "safe" word and use it early and often)
TEN.. In disagreements, fight fairly.. No name calling.
(Make sure you name your fists - call them "the justice twins" or the "mighty twosome")
ELEVEN. Don't judge people by their relatives.
(but do judge them..)
TWELVE. Talk slowly but think quickly.
(O................................................................................................................................kay)
THIRTEEN! .. When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask, 'Why do you want to know?'
(then proceed to soil yourself - that'll make them forget the question)
FOURTEEN. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
(stuff some money in a mattress and don't ride bareback!)
FIFTEEN. Say 'bless you' when you hear someone sneeze.
(I prefer to look at them like they are spreading disease and walk away disgusted)
SIXTEEN.. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.
(do blame everyone else)
SEVENTEEN. Remember the three R's: Respect for self; Respect for others; and Responsibility for all your actions.
(Remember the 3 F's Felch, Farmhand and Finger puppets)
EIGHTEEN. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
(make sure it's a real drop down drag out!)
NINETEEN. When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
(...fake a seizure...wet your pants to make it believable)
TWENTY. Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.
(they can't see you rubbing the receiver on your bum so go to town - then you'll have a reason to smile.)
TWENTY- ONE. Spend some time alone.
(that shouldn't be a problem if you follow the steps below!)

Now, here's the FUN part!
(What that wasn't the fun part?)

Send this to at least 5 people and your life will improve.

-are we talking regularity and fewer cold sores improve or something more substantial like the mongos at Tim Horton's always get my order right?

1-4 people: Your life will improve slightly.

-so regularity but cold sores still?

5-9 people: Your life will improve to your liking.

okay so regularity, no cold sores and no bunions?

9-14 people: You will have at least 5 surprises in the next 3 weeks

Are these good surprises like fame, happiness and wealth or bad surprises like gum disease, incontinence and Hermaphrodism?

15 and above: Your life will improve drastically and everything you ever dreamed of will begin to take shape.
(ofcourse you won't have anyone to share your new found glory with because you will have alienated them with all of your insane time sensitive forwarded messages!
A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart. (don't be touching my heart unless your a heart surgeon and I'm in for a procedure)

So here's a big juicy dove of hate for the concept that not forwarding a message within a 6 minute time frame could impact my life negatively. There's enough bullshit out there for us to slog through on a day to day basis without the threat that I may be going down the trail of doom due to my lack of faith in this kind of "voodoo email message."
If you're my friend send me an actual email or pick up the phone and call.
You're on the clock haters so start working those digits!
B-spot on the crusty northern tundra