It’s still cold in Toronto. It’s nearing the end of April and there is still snow and ice left from a two-day ice storm last weekend, and snow and cold temperatures during the week. Either Spring is taking public transit to get here, or Mother Nature is using the weather to play an April Fool’s joke.
During the two-day ice storm, I wanted so badly to stay inside. I wanted to curl up with a warm book and read a blanket. But I had no choice. I had to go out in the freezing rain and the blustering wind. I kept telling myself, “It’s the middle of April. It’s the middle of April.”
Of course, the world is supposed to end on Monday April 23. Perhaps the bad weather is because the world is ending. The end of the world and nice weather do not go together. The world can only end with bad weather. But the weather people are forecasting “clear skies, sunshine and warm temperatures” for this weekend and Monday.
So, don’t be surprised if the world does not end. You will probably see a sign:
THE END OF THE WORLD HAS BEEN CANCELLED DUE TO NICE WEATHER.
Here we go again. The world will end on April 23, 2018. This according to Christian numerologist David Meade. Meade previously predicted that the world would end in September, 2017. When that did not happen, he said that it would end in October, 2017. Now he is predicting the Rapture will happen on April 23, 2018.
So, will Jesus come back on April 23? If so, then where is Jesus coming back from? I have mentioned the following in an earlier blog. Jesus is God and God is everywhere. Where did Jesus go that is not everywhere, and how can he come back to where he already is? I have not met a Christian yet who can answer these questions.
April 23 happens to be my birthday. If David Meade is right this time, then I hope the world ends after my birthday party. What a shame if the world ended before I opened my gifts.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your taxes?”
“Then why are you writing?”
Productive procrastination? Is that a good reason? I never write enough, so I am writing now to avoid doing my taxes.
“But when you’re supposed to be writing, you avoid doing so by doing something else.”
“If you drew up a schedule, then you would find time to do everything you’re supposed to do.”
You’re right, voice in my head, but part of me resists schedules and time constraints and just wants to run wild and do whatever.
“So, you get a lot accomplished running wild and doing whatever?”
Look, I said that you were right about doing a schedule. Don’t rub it in. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to find something else to do so I can avoid doing my taxes.
Sunflower seeds were sunflower seeds when I was a kid. If you wanted to eat dill pickles, then you opened a jar of dill pickles and ate them. But now, thanks to progress, you can buy dill-pickle-flavored sunflower seeds.
Okay, so I can accept dill-pickle-flavored sunflower seeds. Why not? Potato chips come in many flavors. But I have a problem with this package of sunflower seeds that shows that we are not as bright as we used to be: it has instructions on how to eat sunflower seeds. In case you cannot read the words in the picture below . . .
EATING INSTRUCTIONS: CRACK OPEN SHELLS, DISCARD SHELLS. ENJOY THE SEEDS!
Instructions on how to eat sunflower seeds? Where are we headed?
So what’s all the fuss about Facebook selling information? People didn’t know that Facebook does this? What did people think? That Facebook was free?
Big Brother is watching and he is sneaky in how he watches.
Loblaws grocery store agreed to give customers a $25.00 gift certificate to compensate for a bread price-fixing scheme. To get the gift card, customers had to go online and give personal information. Once the card arrived in the mail, customers had to go online and key in the number on the card to “activate” the card. So now Loblaws has a customer’s personal information along with a way of knowing what the customer buys. Of course, Loblaws is not going to use this information to recover the cost of the gift certificates, and make a profit. Why would they want to do that?
No matter how much privacy is promised, anything we put online is not private. Facebook will go through the motions of tightening up its privacy, but it is just cosmetics. Facebook and other free social networking sites make their money from using our personal data.
Big Brother is watching . . .
When I walked into the YMCA shower room yesterday morning, a little boy immediately locked his eyes on my crotch. He watched intensely, and his head turned to follow me as I walked by him. He was about 4 years old. His father was showering beside him.
After I walked by him, the boy turned to his father and said, “Daddy, that man is old!”
“Shhhhhh!” said his father.
And then the boy continued to stare at my crotch as I showered. He never stopped staring the whole time I was in the shower. I pretended not to notice, but it bothered me having my crotch watched so intently.
The boy was right. I am old—at least compared to his age.
What standards did he use to judge my age from staring at my crotch? You can tell the age of a tree by counting the rings in its trunk. I have no rings in my crotch, but I do have wrinkles. Did the boy count the wrinkles to determine my age? Who knows?
The Toronto Transit Commission (TTC), Toronto’s public transit, does not have enough public washrooms. How upsetting, to say the least, when the TTC closes one of its rare washrooms for whatever reason.
Here is what I would like to do when I can’t use a closed washroom. I would like to take a huge dump—a ginormous dump!—on the floor under the sign by the washroom door. And then I would place a sign sticking out from the dump:
I had to really go. Sorry for the inconvenience.
As I mentioned, I enjoy being on my own. There are times when I would love to fall asleep hugging someone, but that is a nice thought for now. My only thoughts about sex are how there should be three spaces as choices on an application: Male, Female and Whatever.
I do have one sensual experience I enjoy every day, and have no problem doing it by myself . . . Get your minds out of the gutter. It’s having a shower. I love showering! I could stand in the shower all day. I love the warmth. I love the hot water bouncing off my body. I love how the water massages my body. I love watching all my troubles go down the drain. Did I mention that I could stand in the shower all day?
After I stop the shower, and it is so hard to stop, I love the feeling of the towel massaging my body. It picks up where the shower left off.
And now for the climax. Every sensual experience has a climax. I take two cotton swabs, one in each hand, and gently clean out the water in both ears at the same time. Oh, what a feeling!
So there you have my daily sensual experience. Do I need to get a life?
Ah, Spring! It’s my favorite time of the year. The days get longer and love is in the air—not near me, of course. I enjoy watching love in the air around other people and keep my distance from it.
I enjoy my company. I can do whatever I want when I want. It wouldn’t be fair to my partner if I was like this in a relationship.
I am surprised at the number of women who keep telling me how I should not be on my own and that I need to be in a relationship. They know what is better for me than I do?
As far back as I can remember, I enjoyed doing things by myself—even as a kid. When I was 7 years old my teacher told me, “You have to learn to be with people and do things with people. If you don’t, then you will die a lonely old man.”
I can hardly wait.
At Christmas, we are not allowed the say, “Merry Christmas.” The politically correct crowd tell us that we do not want to offend those who are not Christians and/or those who do not celebrate Christmas. We have to say, “Happy Holidays.” And many non-Christians, etc., are insistent that we do not offend them by wishing them a “Merry Christmas.” These people still get the Christmas holidays off.
On St. Patrick’s Day in Toronto, the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC – public transit) allowed free rides from 4:30 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. on the Queen, King and Cherry Street streetcars. The TTC did this to encourage people not to drink and drive.
What about those TTC passengers who are not Irish and do not celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? Did they get on the streetcars and say, “I am not Irish and do not celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. I insist on paying the streetcar fare.”?
Note: I would have posted this yesterday, but the snakes ate my computer.