Donovison

Donovision is now active. 24 hour comedy practical-joke surveillance. This has to be illegal it's so funny.

Receding brain line..

There is a incredible feeling of accomplishment when one washes, dries, folds and puts away all of ones laundry. Every freaking morsel of clothing I own is in it's right place (with the exception of what I am wearing). I think that is pretty significant. How many people can say that? Probably only a handful of the elite.

So while I continually toy with purcashing a BenQ PB6100 (only $1000 CDN! Can you freaking believe it!?), and narrowly missed the most incredible Dell purchase ever ($750 off of a $1500 laptop!), my office mates have hatched a new clever plan to enroll their poor unsuspecting victim in an online hair loss plan. Heartless. ;)

Practical?

So practical jokes are the new modus operandi around here. Shaken pops, mixed up keys, and the creative ideas will surely keep flowing. Neither of the plans that were dreamed up by the schemer (we'll call him.... Danny) have succeeded so far, but success is not far off.

More to come...

I Hit A Fire-eyed English Lady

This morning was amazing, out the door with ten minutes to be at work, I go to the Argyl and 76th Tim's and, holy (insert holy thing of choice), the line is empty. In two years of semi-faithful attendance to this Tim's location (which has an incredible morning and lunchtime drive-through speed) this has never happened. I take this as an omen that I will have a very terrible, or significantly incredible day. Well, it did lead to the fire-lady, anyway.

Avenue called me to tell me my guitar was done being set-up ($85 !), and I could pick it up. So I mosey on down to the Ave, give them my right arm, and continue on my happy way to the IGA on Calgary Trail. I get a Pita from the Pit. I go back, eat my pita in the car, while listening to Muse (Absolution), and when finished back out right smack dab into the corner of the back bumper of the fire-mobile.

Damn.

I turn to my right and see a attractive black haired woman in her mid twenties gaping in horror at the carnage I have wreaked. I calmly (I can't remember if I swore, but it's definately possible) put my car back in it's previous angle parked position, got out of my car and said to her, "Well, that was smart". She laughed nervously. But she's laughing. Thank the Lord. We go on to inspect the damage, which considering that her car is a built-in-the-70s panzer tank, is only very minor scuff marks on the amateur after-market paint job. But her eyes! She has some sort of dragon lady contacts which give her eyes a yellow, orange, red explosion look. Not the stupid cat-eyes thing, but just fiery color. And they actually look good on her. She tells me in a slightly nervous - and british - tone, "that it shouldn't be a problem". My soul weeps with happiness, we part ways, and although karma is not a concept I would agree with, I curse that Tim's drive-thru line for being empty.