Okay. Seriously. The next person who sends me a chain letter is getting a complete verbal beatdown. I am so very tired of some people, who in some seemingly distant universe I viewed as being intelligent, who are constantly sending me bullshit emails. If you send useless chain letters (And, my friends, there is no such THING as a USEFUL chain letter), please read the following very carefully, and understand that I never want to receive another piece of inbox-cannon-fodder ever again, even if it means that your secret crush will hate you forever because you didn't send your completely and utterly worthless email to at least 700 people in 3.4 seconds.
Unless you are a complete moron, you should understand that emails which come to you with no MSN header, no Microsoft seals or stamps, which have 500 spelling mistakes and contain ASCII HEARTS instead of REAL PICTURES are not going to contain life-or-death information about the use of some vital internet resource. I realize - you're scared of losing your MSN; what would life be like without the ability to tell everyone you know that you're drunk, at 4 am? I know that you're scared of the email ghosts who will haunt your dreams forever because they got hit by a train before they could kiss their mostest secret grade 5 heartthrob, and their last wish was for you to fill up Chris Spiker's inbox with 500 flaming emails every day. I also imagine that you may have the IQ of low-fat mayonnaise. But then, even low-fat mayonnaise has never sent me a chain letter; does this make you even more useless than low-fat mayonnaise? I assert that it does.
When you get an email which tells you that if you forward it, Bill Gates himself will give you 250 dollars for every single person you annoy with your babbling idiocy, you might try, just for once TRY and use your brain and just think for a second. Why in the hell would Bill Gates ever give me money to send this email to a bunch of my friends? Yes, I know the email says that money is meaningless to Bill Gates, and it says that you're bound to get at least 10 thousand dollars, just for sending the email forward to your now very lucky friends, who will then in turn send it forward again and rejoice with you as you receive your cheque directly from Bill Gates. Maybe Bill will cook you a hamburger, too. Why the hell not, he's already giving shit away, why not a hamburger too? See because 10 thousand dollars is NOTHING to Bill Gates, right? I mean he's got 40 billion dollars! And if everyone in Canada got this email, and each person in turn received the measly 10 grand from good old Bill, he would only have to pay out 300 billion dollars! Oh wait, that's almost 8 times more money than he has! I guess that makes you a dumass, doesn't it. But who can blame you? How could you have been suspicious about the email that started out "Bill Gates sharing his money"? Just a clue here, but THAT IS NOT EVEN A SENTENCE. And no, Carla Sandborne is not a real attorney who "knows the law". She is a figment of your imagination you twit, she's the equivalent of a rainbow brite unicorn.
Last but not least, if I get one more email about what I'm supposed to do when I'm in love with a girl, I'm going to turn gay.
Alright, I feel slightly better now. And if anyone thinks I was even slightly harsh, just tell me and I'll start sending you some of this crap. I bet it would only take one week make you a believer. And if not, I hate you anyway. Merry Christmas!
Spiker
About Me
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
Vancouver - A Third World City
You know what's shitty? When your water is brown and undrinkable. You know where that happens? Somalia, Afghanistan, Hell, and Vancouver. I know what you're thinking - How do I know the color of the water in hell? No, that's not what you're thinking... You're wondering how this happened in Vancouver. That's a damn good question.
I come home one day to find that, not only is my tapwater brown as a Sunday afternoon shit, but it's also undrinkable without in-house treatment. Fantastic. Did you know, no matter how much you boil dirty water, it doesn't get any clearer? It's just that the bugs inside of it eventually succumb to the excruciating, burning awfulness of being boiled alive, and simply die inside the water you're about to drink. Their bobbing carcasses remain, still staining the water a putrid brown. And the fact that there's also silt in the water doesn't seem to help. If there's dirt in my water, doesn't that make my water mud? Am I drinking mud?...
A trip to costco yielded not only a flat of bottled water for 6 dollars, but also some much needed entertainment, as we were witness to the most ridiculous of asian shopping spectacles; the rarely seen "fight-over-bottled-water-in-another-language" (Man it was awesome). This got me to thinking - this brown water really isn't the worst thing, is it? I mean how often is it that we get to see asians fighting over a 6 dollar flat of plastic?
The more I thought about it the more I liked the brown water. There are so many bonuses: You get up in the morning, and the first thing you do (If you're a sturdy, regular fellow such as I) is go to the bathroom to take your morning pee. You stare down at the unfamiliarly colored innards of the toilet, but just before you begin your morning ritual, you realize that the water in the toilet is already dirty - and you feel fantastic. You no longer need to worry about peeing in water which is also suitable to drink, wasting an entire toilet tank just for one small portion of urine. It's like peeing in the outdoors, or watering plants with your pee - you know you're putting your pee to good use. And the greatness of muddy water does not stop there my friends. I've been drinking bottled water for the past week, and I can report without bias that drinking bottled water makes you feel special. It's like, every time you pick up a bottle of water, and crack that seal, you're saying "I know there's water in the tap. Like a barbarian, I could boil it for 10 minutes and try not to think about its less than subtle brownness as I drink it down, dead bugs in mud. But I'm just not going to stoop to that level. I have bottled water. I am worth it."
I could go on.
I awoke the other morning and discovered, to my absolute horror and disappointment, that the water was, once again, clear and drinkable. You cannot know how this tore at my soul; you cannot understand the pain of a man unless you have walked in his opaque, brown colored shoes. I had become accustomed to my wondrously browned water. I had an intimate relationship with my brown water. We had learned to exist together, in peace and harmony, each unit respective and cherishing of the other. Though we had begun as individuals, even as enemies, we had grown together into a nearly inseparable mass - a gelatinous blob of muddy love. And now they had taken it away, without apology, without remorse. Bastards.
But then I got over it. Who wants brown water coming out of their taps? I can go outside and stick my face in the mud if I want some brown water...
Spiker
PS - Ode to Salad: Salad, how I missed you. Thank you for not abandoning me in my time of crisis. Your will is astounding - you stood tall amongst the zucchini and onions and you refused to wilt. I will wash and eat you tonight, and we shall rejoice.
I come home one day to find that, not only is my tapwater brown as a Sunday afternoon shit, but it's also undrinkable without in-house treatment. Fantastic. Did you know, no matter how much you boil dirty water, it doesn't get any clearer? It's just that the bugs inside of it eventually succumb to the excruciating, burning awfulness of being boiled alive, and simply die inside the water you're about to drink. Their bobbing carcasses remain, still staining the water a putrid brown. And the fact that there's also silt in the water doesn't seem to help. If there's dirt in my water, doesn't that make my water mud? Am I drinking mud?...
A trip to costco yielded not only a flat of bottled water for 6 dollars, but also some much needed entertainment, as we were witness to the most ridiculous of asian shopping spectacles; the rarely seen "fight-over-bottled-water-in-another-language" (Man it was awesome). This got me to thinking - this brown water really isn't the worst thing, is it? I mean how often is it that we get to see asians fighting over a 6 dollar flat of plastic?
The more I thought about it the more I liked the brown water. There are so many bonuses: You get up in the morning, and the first thing you do (If you're a sturdy, regular fellow such as I) is go to the bathroom to take your morning pee. You stare down at the unfamiliarly colored innards of the toilet, but just before you begin your morning ritual, you realize that the water in the toilet is already dirty - and you feel fantastic. You no longer need to worry about peeing in water which is also suitable to drink, wasting an entire toilet tank just for one small portion of urine. It's like peeing in the outdoors, or watering plants with your pee - you know you're putting your pee to good use. And the greatness of muddy water does not stop there my friends. I've been drinking bottled water for the past week, and I can report without bias that drinking bottled water makes you feel special. It's like, every time you pick up a bottle of water, and crack that seal, you're saying "I know there's water in the tap. Like a barbarian, I could boil it for 10 minutes and try not to think about its less than subtle brownness as I drink it down, dead bugs in mud. But I'm just not going to stoop to that level. I have bottled water. I am worth it."
I could go on.
I awoke the other morning and discovered, to my absolute horror and disappointment, that the water was, once again, clear and drinkable. You cannot know how this tore at my soul; you cannot understand the pain of a man unless you have walked in his opaque, brown colored shoes. I had become accustomed to my wondrously browned water. I had an intimate relationship with my brown water. We had learned to exist together, in peace and harmony, each unit respective and cherishing of the other. Though we had begun as individuals, even as enemies, we had grown together into a nearly inseparable mass - a gelatinous blob of muddy love. And now they had taken it away, without apology, without remorse. Bastards.
But then I got over it. Who wants brown water coming out of their taps? I can go outside and stick my face in the mud if I want some brown water...
Spiker
PS - Ode to Salad: Salad, how I missed you. Thank you for not abandoning me in my time of crisis. Your will is astounding - you stood tall amongst the zucchini and onions and you refused to wilt. I will wash and eat you tonight, and we shall rejoice.
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