Happy Anniversary

Happy Anniversary my dear blog.  As of January 1st its been one year.  An easy date to remember.  Good for me, since I am not known to have a very diligent memory.

I spent the first 6 months of 2016 churning out content viewed by a few of you.  Many posts drew houls of laughter from myself.  As I tell my virtually entirely international classes of high school students, the jokes I tell in class are mostly for myself.  If anyone else benefits then all the better.  One local student told me recently, in a gentle tone assuming that I did not realize, that “they” don’t get my jokes.  “I know”, I told her.  The jokes are just for you and me.  Two smiles and 19 blank faces.

astronaut-in-space-4k-imageI spent the second 6 months of 2016 preoccupied with applying to be a Canadian astronaut and as a result did not blog hardly at all.  I made it past the first few rounds and was mentally gearing up for the physical tests that would come next, but it was not to be.  Not that I thought I would actually make it as one of 2 astronauts hired from 4000 applicants.  But I did hope, actually expect, to be among the last hundred or so going through rigorous testing and competitions as I imagine happens on the reality TV show Survivor, even though I never watched any episodes.  I would have been good.  A wily old coyote with surprising physical stamina and an overachiever under pressure.  But maybe only in my dreams.

Happy Anniversary my dear blog, and Happy 2017.  The truth is out there.


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Walking in High Heels

I think I know what it feels like to walk in high heels.  You see, several times a day I need to walk outside of my front door.  To the car, to the garbage bins, to whatever.  But since I’m too damned lazy to bend over and put my running shoes on properly, my heel has no chance of making it inside the shoe.  And since I don’t want to ruin my running shoes by continuously stepping on the back and folding it over, I simply touch it delicately with my heel as I tip toe to the car to retrieve my phone.  Or to the garbage bin to throw out some putrid smelling compost filled with raw meat and soiled diapers.  Or out to the street to get a proper view of the storm clouds rolling in.  I can’t just sit at home all day and rely on the weather radar.  I want to see it with my own eyes.flip-flops

I suppose I could invest in some nice comfortable flip flops.


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Yay Blippi!

blippiI haven’t a clue how popular or obscure Blippi is out there beyond the walls of this house.  Not a clue.

Over here his videos are the go-to toddler intoxicant to smooth over the early morning madness of necessary bathroom time, finding clean underwear, steamrolling wrinkles out of my shirt with friction heat, preparing some sort of “lunch”, and checking the clock every time it’s within sight.  Yay Blippi!

My armpits still stink and I realize that I forgot to use soap.  Not a problem.  I’ll shower again.  Yay Blippi!

My stomach’s about to explode from last night’s chip and dip.  Better go do it fast, but no worries about my toddler climbing the table and swinging from the Christmas tree.  Yay Blippi!

Who the hell is texting me at 6:30 am?  Oh wait, that’s not a text, it’s my phone buzzing to remind me to check the sports scores.  And the highlight videos.  I don’t have time, but I make time.  Yay Blippi!

My toddler doesn’t like change.  As in, change out of his PJs, out of his diaper, sneak on his clothes, his shoes, even his coat.  All while he is mesmerized by the man called Blippi.  Yay Blippi!

Now, how to turn off Blippi and make the dash for life to the car?  I know – promise my toddler a donut with sprinkles on the way to daycare.  Yes, that does contribute to my running for the sarcastic “Father of the Year” award, but you gotta do what you gotta do.  It’s a jungle gym out there.




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Now Isn’t This Sweet?

All I was doing was using Google to look up “doughnuts” vs. “donuts”.  Is it a Canadian vs. American spelling thing?  I am a plain sort of guy so I like to use the term donut.  Just like I use the term “check” instead of “cheque”.

And now, after looking up check vs. cheque, I see that this is a Canadian vs. American thing.  Well actually a British vs. American thing, but Canadians are just British-lite.

Anyhow …

sprinkledoughnutAs I was innocently looking up the two different spellings of the word donut, so that I can tell you all about how I am beaten down every morning by my 2-year-old to buy him a donut with sprinkles as the only way to get him out of the house so that I’m not late for work …. AGAIN.  As I was looking up this cute and innocent bit of information the very first thing that Google gave me was this:


That’s right.  A little establishment in downtown Toronto called “Glory Hole Doughnuts”.  Their motto:  “What Creams Are Made Of”.

This is a real donut, I mean doughnut, shop.  Selling real donuts.  Doughnuts.  Whatever.  Surely there’s a way to incorporate “nuts” into all of this, but I’m not even going to try.


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Apparently I Was Out In Public With a Froggy Umbrella

frog umberellaDoes this look like an umbrella suitable for a grown man?  I ask you readers, in all honesty, what kind of a woman would attempt to humiliate her husband with such cruelty?

This morning I had to take Baby DRAGONE to daycare on the streetcar.  In the rain.  You see, I happen to be at a time where I am in between cars.  Some people are “in between jobs”, I am “in between cars”.  My trusty reliable Corolla got smashed up real good, as was noted a couple of blogs ago.  Thankfully, yours truly DRAGONE escaped without a scratch with only one scratch courtesy of a super powerful air bag and my ninja blocking skills.  Looks like all those years riding bumper cars paid off!

So today I ventured into the outside world beyond the confines of my house or car.  Ahhhhhhhhh Nature!  But what made this particularly challenging was that I was transporting Baby DRAGONE, in the rain, with an essential stop at Tim Horton’s, trying to figure out if the streetcar accepts Presto cards, and hoping preying that we can make this trip while “in between potties”.

I had my nondescript black umbrella tested and ready to go, but Mrs. DRAGONE insisted that I take the green umbrella.  “He really likes it” apparently.  Well little did I know that I would be coming back home, by myself, shielding my sensitive skin with a green froggy umbrella.  All by myself, with no baby in sight.  Just a grown man.  And a green froggy umbrella with giant bulging eyes.

A woman laughed at me while we were waiting for the streetcar.  “Awesome umbrella”, she giggled.  I ask you readers, do I look like a man fit to be mocked like a cartoon character?

Upon arriving back home I found my front door wide open.  This was a tricky little adventure, with lots of little things to plan.  My ADD does not do well in these situations.  How was I also supposed to remember to close the door on the way out?

Well, as my little one would say – WE DID IT!


p.s. don’t you find that cute writing style of crossing out words to show fake your thought process in a humorous way annoying?  I do.  I thought I would experiment with it but in my opinion, experiment failed.

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Is It a Horse Or a Giraffe?

giraffesThe animal in question, seen here on your right, is clearly a horse.  A spotted horse, but clearly a horse.  I present to you, on your left, an actual giraffe so that you can have a proper comparison .

You see, Baby DRAGONE loves horses.  So being the thoughtful parent that I am I stopped by our local Toys R Us to look for a horse.  And that is exactly what I found.  A cute spotted little horse.  Ask Baby DRAGONE, he knows it’s a horse.  Or rather, a “Nnnnaaaaaay”.  Or is that “Nnnneeeigh” ?  Who in their right minds pronounces the combination “eigh” as “ay”?  I’d hate to be an ESL student in this country.  Anyhow …

My point is that babies do not tell you what you want to hear.  They tell you exactly what they are thinking, or rather feeling.  So when my baby looks at said creature in question and says “Nnnnnaaaay” with a huge smile on his face, then clearly it is a horse.  Babies do not politicize, see for them all lives don’t matter, only their life matters.  Which is probably true for many adults too.  Anyhow …

Clearly what we have in this picture is one very tall giraffe, with a very long neck, as that is what giraffes are known for.  And one short little horse.  With spots.

I mean, who in their right mind makes a horse with spots?  Has anyone ever seen a horse with spots?  What kind of drugs was this mass produced stuffed animal maker on?  Anyhow ….

A horse is a horse is a horse.  Not a giraffe.  Got it people?

All animals are not made the same.  Some have long necks.  Some go “Nnnnnaaaaay”.  The spots are superficial.

I rest my case.


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Shit Happened

Hey, shit happens.  Everyone knows that,  even my toddler.  But this week, shit actually happened.  To me.  Shit.

car from accidentSo picture this.  It’s the last day of June.  School’s out!  DRAGONE is looking at 2 solid months of blogging, working out, taking naps during the day, and eating pizza and chips whenever the fuck he wants.  (No staying up late and sleeping in though, there’s still baby DRAGONE who’s schedule has not changed).  Ah, but isn’t summer a wonderful time.

And then CRASH BANG BOOM!  It looks like I was in too much of a hurry to get home on that last day of school.  My car didn’t survive the accident, but somehow I did.  I can’t say I made it out without a scratch. bruise from car accident Pictured here is the scratch I got from the airbag.  I blocked it well, my sensei would have been proud.

Unfortunately, my 2 months of loafing around has now been taken over by phone calls to the insurance company and hunting for a new car.  We appear to have settled on the Nissan Leaf, an electric car.  Why buy an electric car you ask?  Why not.

Actually, the real reason is because I hate shopping.  Since this is the only electric car that is available in auto dealerships in my area, choosing an electric car means we have finished with our decision making.

Except for choosing the colour.  I vote blue.  Every car I have ever owned has been black.  Most clothes I own are black.  When you buy things one at a time, black looks cool.  When you put all the things you own in one room, all together, and everything is black, it no longer looks cool. blue leaf It looks like you’re trying to make a statement.  So I want my next car to be bright blue.  (Mrs. DRAGONE will probably vote grey, and she will probably win).

Our house is probably not equipped to deal with charging an electric car.  Shit.  I don’t like dealing with shit.  All I want to do is watch the Blue Jays play every day, because that’s how often baseball is played.  Every day.  Because baseball is not a real sport.  But I don’t care because I’m addicted to it now.


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