Category Archives: You Magnificent Bastard

Vakebtube Dau

You Magnificent Bastard 6 Replies

My day is filled with staff complaining about their jobs for the most part. That and someone got laid off today. I get an email halfway through this shitstorm saying:

“I lied. I did do something for Valentines: I made reservations at The Stonegrill.”

The husband always comes through.

I highly recommend the Stonegrill. The dinner wasn’t rushed nor was it uncomfortable. The staff were attentive and offered enough time for us to have a really nice, relaxing meal. The menu was a prix fixe of an array of meats served on a perfectly flat, rectangular lava rock. We were warned that the rock itself was heated to 800F (cooler by the lake) and that “touching it would be bad”.

I had the lamb and Tiger Shirmp, SharkBoy had the Tenderloin and the Salmon. All was super delicious.

We talked about work through the first course then laid down a rule of no more work talk and spent the rest of the evening talking about our looming vacation. And babies. Admittedly we confessed to being more excited about a Disney vacation than children.

After a bottle of wine, meat-seared dinner and rich chocolate cake, chased with a strong espresso, we stagger home.

Happu Valketube Day may lovers!

A Device to Enhance Your Testing Experience

Gaming, You Magnificent Bastard Leave a reply

When Portal was released amongst Valve’s “The Orange Box” set, I was utterly shocked that they jammed three games into one disk, for the price of one game… Now it seems they’re going to go a little further with the stand alone PS3 release. Get ready to spooge your geek organ…

Via GayGamer.net:

The PS3 version will also feature Steam cloud support for game saves. This seemed to me like an odd feature at first, until I read one of the other features of the PS3 version: a download code to unlock Portal 2 for Steam play on PC and Mac. Yeah, you get a free PC/Mac copy of the game with a purchase of the PS3 version.

In an age where game developers are nickle and diming you to death, Valve continues to say “Frag you!”. I’m loving how the console wars keep on giving and giving. Seriously if PS3 was alone in the gaming world, you’d be paying big time, like a LucasArts game or something.

I don’t know how they talked Sony into it, but I can’t wait!

For Whom the Bell Sends a Cheque

You Magnificent Bastard 1 Reply

I come home to another windowy envelope from Bell, addressed to my late father. Great, I think to myself. Another invoice.

I open the bill to find a cheque. A cheque for $67. I’m gobsmacked.

There’s no letter, no explanation, except for the Bell logo and a cryptic “Automatic refund of Account Final Acct” dated December 22nd. Other than a reference number, that’s it.

I did some searching in my logs and found my “Dear Bell Canada” post was picked up by someone on Facebook and got most traffic through that. As you know, I dropped Facebook a while back so I can’t see what’s being said. I guess someone at Bell got forwarded the link because soon after that, someone searched on “Edward Healey” on my blog and read every mention of Da in the last year. Fact checking, I guess.

I will give this to Bell. They heard my passive aggressive rants into the ether and sent on a refund for the full amount, passive aggressively.

However, I’m sticking to my guns about their client interaction and billing system. Sure they didn’t have to issue me a cheque and that was nice and all, but it’s 6 months in the making. We didn’t have to do this dance, Bell.

The marble. It does nothing.

Toronto, You Magnificent Bastard 2 Replies

7:45 am and I’ve just pressed the 19th floor button to go up to my dentist. He’s got an office in a swanky Yonge and Bloor address, upper downtown, whose lobby consists of 80s style floor to ceiling marble.

Like a stylized Ridley Scott scene of streaming light and isolation, I jab a button and the middle elevator door dings open. I enter the car, turn and press 19. As I step back from the panel I hear some rustling just outside the elevator. Someone is rushing to get to my cab, despite the dearth of free elevators at that hour of the morning.

Time. Slows. Down…

He crests the frame of the elevator as I reach out to the DOOR OPEN button. I notice two things: He’s carrying a Tim Hortons large coffee in one hand and a nice attache case in the other. The other thing I notice is that he’s going down.

Time. Slows. Down. More…

I see his left foot slip out and his whole frame lists to the left. His shoulder hits the elevator door frame, and probably saved him from going down utterly without support. Meanwhile, with his weight toppling left, his right foot gives on the marble floor and it’s inevitable. It’s a full on fall, people! I have a flash of YouTube videos of smoke stacks that should have fallen one way but comically, ironically fall on the foreman’s F150. But he’s still going down and I snap out of it.

His left knee hits the marble. He drops the attache for sake of the coffee. His left butt cheek is the next to hit the floor but he’s twisting fast enough to make it his whole ass.

My hand goes out. But I don’t know where to grab.

He’s on his ass fully now, torso inside the cab, legs out in the lobby. Incredibly his coffee is unspilt. I want to help him up but I stop as that I can sense he’s super embarrassed about the whole thing – I know I wouldn’t want to be helped. I then think I can take his coffee to assist in his righting, but then I feel that’s a bit too intimate of a thing to touch. He literally jumps up from the floor.

As the doors shut we make the usual noises two humans do when faced with a slip like this: “You ok? Sure? You took quite the tumble there…” etc.

“At least it’s Friday…” I offer.

“Can’t get any worse, right?”

Winner, Winner! Chicken Dinner!

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, You Magnificent Bastard 6 Replies

I had one glass of champagne at midnight last night (this morning? Sounds decadent!) and2010 Canadian Weblog Awards toasted the new year. At 12:05, after getting drunken calls from in-laws, we crawled into bed and I fired up Twitter on my iPad to take my mind off the bed spins (cheap champers) where I was greeted with the announcement that this here blog won the Canadian Weblog Award for Best LBGTQ Blog! Colour me Verklempt!

I know I berated one of you dear readers into nominating me in the first place. To you, I say THANK YOU. To the rest of you who regularly read and take no actions, expect banner ads. Just kidding.

I am now going to get myself an agent and start hitting up Oprah for a spot on her show before she retires.

What to expect for 2011? More vertical integration! Videodrome-style ad implementation! Craigslist sex ads refugee stations! Coupons!

Seriously, thanks for reading! And congratulations to the other nominees, I honestly believed they’d win out over me.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Present

Distractions, Personal Bits, You Magnificent Bastard

Traditional, right?

Are you full from your turkey, or ham, or roasted butternut squash? Whatever you’ve tucked into after a day of gorging yourself on prezzies?

More importantly, are you happy with what you got?

I’m happy with what I got. And I don’t mean presents, I mean with the family I’ve inherited.

Over the last 7+ years, every time we travel to Vermont or Quebec to celebrate Xmas, I’m constantly blown away at the pure hospitality offered to me. Even when I would wake up in a strange bed in my Mother In Law’s home, where neither one of us could communicate well to each other, beyond hand signals and grade 9 level of vocab, I always felt like I was welcome.

That's right... a sleigh ride on Xmas Eve, in VT.

This year I was on emotional pins and needles. Though my father and I rarely ever celebrated Xmas in the last decade (he was pretty much “wintering” out of the country or down in Niagara Falls staying with his best friend) this was the first time I didn’t send him a card or get him a gag dollar store gift or even just call him on the phone. For weeks beforehand I was wondering how I was going to cope with this glaring emptiness during the season. To say I was uncomfortable was a bit of an understatement: would I burst into tears from a comment or a shard of a memory?

Here’s where I share some love: I commend my Sis-in-law for her ability to keep me “occupied”. Not that I was distracted like a baby with car keys in front of my face the entire time at her house. No. But before Da’s passing, she created a new base of traditions, like little excursions to local spots of interest around her home, or gift giving stylizations that are heart warming and comforting (read: home made gifts). She had created traditions that when Da left us, had me prepared to sail through Xmas without much distress. It wasn’t 100% fool-proof: I did manage to have a nightmare where I had to relive my father’s death all over again, so the thoughts were there, but this particular Xmas felt…right. Things were in place to make the holiday still feel good. The sleigh ride through the VT country side, on Xmas eve was certainly a highlight. It was surreally like a Currier and Ives painting.

I love my new family.

Okay with that gooey stuff out of the way, let’s get to the consumerist, greedy list of cool things I got:

  • You all know that I got SharkBoy and I a couple of Stormtrooper outfits. One traditional trooper for him, and one for me, so we wouldn’t be fighting over who was wearing what on such and such holiday. Happy Life Day!
  • I got super mouse pad and table place settings with a couple images from my Flickr account. Syl knew my favorite pics somehow and printed them up
  • And speaking of made, Syl made me a couple of pillowcases with UFOs on them. Rocks!
  • In the “Way too Generous” category, we both got $50 worth of DisneyWorld credits each. Kitchen Sinks for all!
  • Subcategory: “Holy shit, stop it!” comes from both mothers, in-law or otherwise, $150US cash each.
  • Endless candy.
  • A massive stocking full of fun gifties, like kitchen utensils, bath soaps and fun housewares.
  • A herky jerky robot
  • A remote controlled robot
  • Epic Mickey and Star Wars Unleashed II – the next two months until the vacation will zip by!
  • and a watery foot massager. With “Smart heat” and “Toe switch on and off” Heaven!!

Here are a couple pics. I hope your holiday was fun and fantastic and family.

This was breakfast. Yeah. I know. Good.

Husband. I love him.

Bags of goodies!!

Lots of Arty Shots

Me and My Niece - note no black undersuit.

WE ATE LIKE KINGS!!!!

Its In The Fog!

Toronto, Travel, You Magnificent Bastard, You Stupid Dick

I’m standing outside SharkBoy’s office, looking at the CN Tower through the skyscrapers thinking how hazy the day is, despite the sun being out in full force. The tower looked like it was an overexposed photo. I shake my head and think I’ve been reading too many How To Photography books.

SharkBoy exits his office and his smiling face lights up my heart. Long weekend! New York Here We Come!

Later, we’re settled in our seats on Flight 113 to Newark. The props haven’t started up despite the plane being 15 minutes late. SharkBoy mentions that fog is rolling in. We wait.

An announcement comes over the PA. Since the plane will be flying in fog, they need to lighten the aircraft by 6 passengers. Those who leave the plane will get the next available flight and a $100 credit. No one leaves and everyone starts to look at each other to see who will blink. Someone yells out “Only $100?!”. After a time the shift supervisor boards the plane with the manifest. She’s… headed straight for us!!

Since we paid the cheapest fare, we’re first off the plane. How this is fair, I have no clue – we’re penalized because we purchased early? And wanted to save some bucks? But I bite my tongue. The aircraft itself is no place to start into something like this, even though SharkBoy tosses out a few cautionary comments about how is this unacceptable. We debark the plane. I’m angry but more embarrassed to be the first people walked off. The hot stares that laser the words “You poor suckers”, burnt into the back of my head as I curtly brush past the apologetic flight attendant.

I’m still not clear why a plane has to lighten it’s load in heavy fog. I may never know. I don’t care right about now.

Since we were first off that meant we were first to see the supervisor who had no clue we were coming back from the plane. No one informed the clerical staff that the ground crew were booting people off the plane and we were met with confusion. SharkBoy is ready to pop. I take a less combative stance and try to figure out what to do next with the shift supervisor. She’s not frazzled but at the same time, she’s got a lot on her plate as more people come off our plane and others are being delayed and eventually cancelled. I have to say while I’m mad (at the weather – how useless is that?) I did have a nice bonding moment with Allison (Ashtor?). We confessed to each other that we hated flying but loved travel.

In the course of the next couple hours I went back to her to stay informed as to out status. Allison (Ashley?) was dealing with one woman who demanded, quite literally, that Porter change the weather. Seriously, she was complaining that Porter had no back up plan for bad weather. Uh… Wot? She was the kind of woman who would jump the queue “just to ask one question” that turned into 5 and ended with her rolling her eyes and not listening to what the staff were telling her (Which she did repeatedly, cell phone hanging off her Holt Renfrew spa toned face). The kind of person you wanted to accidentally walk into a turbo prop engine, Holt Refrew spa toned face first.

At about 7pm they shut down the airport completely due to the fog. We made arrangements for tomorrow morning. My last contact with Asllsionshey I started our conversation by telling her that she was doing an amazing job. And she was. I made mention that working at an airport on an island in a large lake must be frustrating more so than a land locked one. She confessed that if she drove into work and couldn’t see the CN Tower, she knew her day would be trouble.

I’ll take that to heart.

Xmas Early

Distractions, You Magnificent Bastard

This year was suppose to be different.

This year, I was going to utterly decimate SharkBoy with a gift so left field and unpredictable that he was going to fall down unconscious and I would rejoice and dance around his prone body with a cup of egg nog. And we’d sing carols and upload videos to Youtube and eat mince meat pies.

Alas, I have been found out and my reputation as a shitty gift giver stays intact. SharkBoy knows what he’s getting for Xmas. But in my own defense, not by my hand!

I started this amazing gift bonanza early. Back in the summer, our friend BobaDoug had been trolling the 501st web forums to see if anyone was selling their Stormtrooper armor for cheap. A couple weeks back he sends me an email from some chap in the US who is offloading his gear, attached with this picture (see right)
Of course my mind goes a million miles a minute. Doable! And fun! After about 25 emails back and forth, the cheque is in the mail, the suit is on it’s way to sister-in-law Sylvie, in Vermont, and I make the most solemn vow not to say one word. This time was different. The effort was being made!

To explain the chunk of cash missing from the joint account I said some yarn about how I wanted extra money on my credit card for our upcoming New York trip. Bait taken. No suspecty!

A week later, BobaDoug sends me another picture. See above. No it’s not a dead trooper, it’s a pristine SandTrooper outfit with full gear – was I interested? HELLS YEAH! Sandtroopers are my fave! How could I pass it up! Somehow I had to move another chunk of cash around our savings. They say the best lie is the closest to the truth so I came clean. I showed SharkBoy the picture and said, “This is my Xmas gift to me. I can’t pass this deal up. It’s done.” To which he asked if Doug could look for a suit for himself as well. Oh yes, dear! Of course we will. Little do you know!

All is good. I’ve told Sylvie in Vermont that another suit is on it’s way and hush hush on the first one and that SharkBoy knew that I had bought one for myself. We giggle like school girls.

In moving this second chunk of cash, PayPal was a bit slow. I told SharkBoy not to be alarmed by the amount of money hanging around. Last night, after dinner I checked the bank accounts and it was still there. I briefly mentioned to it to him and he grunted in reply. The phone rings and SharkBoy picks it up. It’s Sylvie.

“Tell DeadRobot his suit is here!”

“Wut,” says SharkBoy.

“Ah…Wow! ha! That was…fast…?” I say.

“How did your suit… get to…” SharkBoy Pauses. A light goes on. “YES!!!”

I hear a tinny, tiny “Oh Shit!” come from the phone ear piece.

I don’t blame Sylvie. I should have kept her in the loop about the *timeline* of the payments and deliveries. It wasn’t her fault at all.

But I’m back to being a shitty gift giver. At least that’s no surprise.