August 1, 2004 (3:40 p.m. CDT)
Right now, Caramelhead is off a-shoppin' with her mother. I could've gone, but the shopping experience is best left to mothers and daughters. Besides, I needed a day of rest to prepare myself for the upcoming week. As early as tomorrow morning, I'll be dragging my three-legged stool into the stall of the overfed cow called "Overtime Pay Approved." I intend to log 14 extra hours next week, and even more the following week if it's offered.

But Gord, didn't you just get back from a seven-day vacation? Aye, I did. But it was a hectic week. I'll be relating some of the stories in the coming days, but let it suffice to say that in that week, I slept in/on a bed, a futon and an inflatable mattress, and I napped in/on two couches (Yay Harrow House!), another bed, 2 DC-9s and a Pontiac Bonneville. A side note: "bonneville" is listed as the 86651st most common, or the 149th least common word, in the English language according to WordCount, wedged between "Egilsay" (an island in the Orkneys) and "Sinan" (a Turkish name, most commonly associated with architect Mimar Koca Sinan and heavyweight boxer Sinan Samil Sam).

Right, back to the mother-in-law. I can't complain too much about her visit, even though her flight in was delayed by three hours, and that her luggage was delayed and additional 45 minutes. After all, she did buy me new clothes, including two pairs of shoes to replace the pair of brown Sketchers that I left in Canada. Derek, if you read this in the next couple of days, run over to your parents' place and check to see if I left them either in the bedroom that Jeff was using or the front foyer.

July 29, 2004 (12:06 a.m. CDT)
It has come to my attention that there are people out there who actually read this blog on a regular basis. Said people requested/asked/berated/cajoled me to blog more. Fuckers, here you go.

It took me all of ten minutes in Winnipeg for Fungushead and I to realize just why we're not living in Winnipeg. Compare the traffic systems of DFW and Wpg. In the Metroplex, I can drive from home to work (~25 miles) in under half an hour, thanks to the Interstate highways and freeways. In Winnipeg, you may be able to duplicate the feat if you hit every light and don't have half your route torn up by backhoes. Unlikely.

June 9, 2004 (2:26 a.m. CDT)
Some random thoughts from the past week...
Should I really be happy that the Cowboys signed a 40-year old quarterback? ... It'd be nice to be let back on my bit torrent site. ... It is all about Lindsay Lohan's tits. Check MTV on Thursday night if you doubt me. ... Today at work, I snuck the word "deign" into a conversation with a co-worker. I was highly impressed. ... I want my fucking lawn chair back! ... Enough with the rain already! (One should be careful what he wishes for; only a month ago I was decrying the lack of good thunderstorms this year.) ... Tampa Bay's victory on Monday night puts my "Ex-Jet Curse" to rest, as "Handsome" Khabby claims a ring. Now, who's the lucky engraver that gets to scratch names like Dmitry Afanasenkov, Dave Andreychuk, Ruslan Fedotenko and Nikolai Khabibulin onto Lord Stanley's Cup? ... Rufe Snow bridge is coming down, coming down! ... I need to add some water to the aquarium.

Too many good search engine referralsto ignore...
churches      that    buy     greyhound     bus     tickets     for  stranded -- Those       are their    spaces, not       mine. (148th, Google)
Oedipus pronounciation -- Wow, finally a typo found on my site isn't mine! (9th, Google)
Jonquiere Senior Baseball -- I can't decide what makes me happier: the thought of aged Quebeckers working the suicide squeeze or the free Jackson State title bar on the referring page. (17th, Google via Jackson State Community College)
Poptarts voice activation codes -- I command you to be a part of this nutritious breakfast! (9th, Google)
+"billy ray cyrus" +toronto +condo -- ...And Anne Murray has a dude ranch outside of Mineral Wells. (9th, Google)

May 30, 2004 (4:16 p.m. CDT)
While I reinstall The Sims, I thought I would record a few random thoughts that flashed through my head as I watched Fox's coverage of an NFL Europe game. (The Amsterdam Admirals topped the Cologne Centurions by a score of 23-18.)

Here goes...
• One of the first thing that caught my eye was the huge (8" diameter or so) ad for Skoda cars on the right side of each player's chest. Most of these kids came from Buttfuck, USA and have no clue what a Skoda is and where it came from. The Skoda logo, however, does remind me of the Sport Select logo that once adorned the uniforms of CFL players. (I'm curious if any players back in the day would walk off the field after messing up on a big play, look down at the SS logo and wonder if they just cost some kid in Saskatoon his four game Over/Under parlay.)
• After a botched field goal, the cameras turned to Admirals coach Jeff Reinebold. Has anybody else had the realization (as I did today) that they once played with the titties of a girl who slept with the NFLEL coach currently stalking the sidelines on their TV? I'm sure that question is qualified by the more relevant one: "Can anybody even name an NFLEL coach?" As of today, I can.
• The commentary crew mentioned that in the dying weeks of the league's season, the players' thoughts stray to the things they miss about back home... their car stereos and their cell phones. Their car stereos and their cell phones?!? Being Memorial Day weekend, wouldn't "grilling with their families and going to the lake with their kids" be higher up the list? Is this an indictment of how shallow the players are or how moronic the sportscasters are?
• Under center for the Admirals: Number 11, Clint Stoerner. Keep in mind that three seasons ago, Cowboys fans were hit with the perplexing question of who would cause less damage to the team as the 'Boys starting QB: Stoerner or Ryan Leaf? The answer is only academic, as both players posted shameful QB ratings in the mid-50s in the games with Dallas. And these guys started a third of the games for "America's Team" in 2001. Oy.
• I'm all for four-point field goals.

May 23, 2004 (6:57 p.m. CDT)
I was poking around Fark and wound up stumbling across this article. Apparently academics use Google to determine the fame of a given person. Rather, the fame of a given name. Apparently, I'm pretty famous (currently 7,200+ hits for "Gordon Reid")! Well, my name is famous, as it is shared with a dead actor, a British composer, a minor league hockey player from the '30s and '40s, an Australian writer and a Canadian Coast Guard vessel (which was named for a British Columbia aboriginal man who helped develop native-run fisheries in B.C.).

While I may not manage to be the the most famous "Gordon Reid", I still can be the most recognized "caknuck" the world has seen. A Google search for that term yields my typo-ridden account of an old date, a link to one of my first E2 nodes, my Fark photoshop contest statistics and me showing up in a chat transcript.

May 21, 2004 (3:27 a.m. CDT)
Not much to say at the moment. So here are a couple of Fark Photoshop contest entries:

The first pic was featured in the contest Photoshop this bird on the run from the long arm of the law. It looked like the cop was about to drop a clothesline on a wrestler. The best wrestling clothesline pic I could find was an underexposed shot of Tazz nailing Chris Benoit. NUmber two was created for the thread Theme: Just like the real thing, only smaller. I chose the Hummer One-Half, which earned me 15th place. I think it looks like a Tonka truck, with the tiny wheelbase and all.

May 16, 2004 (1:17 p.m. CDT)
Twice last weekend, I heard the soothing lilt of Patrick Stewart's voice. In commercial voice-overs. The first was for Goodyear's new line of all-weather tires and the second was for some kind of new commercial prescription drug. Add this to the previous work he's done for Porsche and narrating documentaries, and we soon realize that our Capt. Picard has become a hot commodity for speech work. And he's not Starfleet's only commanding officer with a golden larynx, either. Voyager's Kate Mulgrew can be heard doing ads for Ford and voice work for video games. DS9's Avery Brooks snagged himself a series of high profile spots for IBM. Plus, anytime a new Star Trek DVD or video game hits the shelf, you can be assured that someone stopped into a recording studio to lend a hand...

Some search engine tomfoolery, for the illustrious Wertperch:
ASK JEEVES DISNEY HEADBOARDS -- I'd find a Disney headboard a little disturbing. Imagine the erection-killing effect of looking up from your wife's/girlfriend's/one night stand's mid-coital facial contortions to see... Timon and Pumbaa. (1st, msn.co.uk)
metallica whisky in the yar lyrics -- Arrr, that Lars Ulrich has been hard on us pirates! First 'e be takin' our MP3s, then 'e be takin' our grog! Yarrr! (3rd, Google.dk)
courtney love's foot fetish pics -- Just bringing your feet within eighteen feet of Love may result in plantar warts, Hepatitis B, cooties and an infestation of those toenail monsters from the Lamasil commercial. (2nd, Yahoo)
"demographics of the republican party" -- Think "albino sausage party". (4th, Google)

May 9, 2004 (10:39 p.m. CDT)
Sorry there haven't been any updates the last few days. Whether you believe it or not, my usual excuses don't apply here. Instead of work, family woes or general or a temporary distaste for blogging keeping me away from these hallowed pages, it has been a much more practical problem: electricity. Over the last few days, whenever my apartment's air conditioning cuts on, a power surge boots my 'puter in the nads. But now, even with the A/C turned off, my system is prone to random reboots depending which appliances I have running at the time. (This has prompted me to save my work in this file every 45 seconds or so, just to be safe.) Hopefully an electrician will be despatched here this week. I'll be stopping at CompUSA on my way to work tomorrow to buy a UPS/battery backup as this place is prone to brownouts and short blackouts in the summer and to power disruptions due to storm activity in the spring.

To all my babies' mothers, and all my babies' mothers' mothers, Happy Moms Day. Word.

May 5, 2004 (2:35 a.m. CDT)
No real theme to this post, just some random, disjointed babblings. Here goes...

No word in the English language is funnier when said while doing a Sean Connery impersonation than "sycophants." Say it normally. Now make like Sean and say it. Brings a smile to your face, dunnit?

Record companies screwing over artists by withholding royalties? In this day and age of music piracy, the member labels of the RIAA sue teenagers for doing the very same thing. But it takes New York's Attorney General to order the labels to pony up thousands of dollars that have been owing for, in some cases, decades. Now, pardon me while I go and download that Candlebox song.

How 'bout Lindsay Lohan's knockers, hmm? I'll defer any further comment on this matter until July

Okay, enough of that crap. Let's see some search engine referrals!
sexy rolling stones pics of hilary diff -- Oh, the tools one finds on the Internet. Firstly, it's "Hillary Duff". Secondly, she's not terribly sexy. And finally, the magazine's name is Rolling Stone (in the singular sense). To think that Ronnie Wood is beatring his 57-year old meat to pictures of barely legal and barely-talented semi-starlets is distubing. I hear Fox optioned the concept as a reality series for next year. (4th, AOL)
ankle sprains erotic -- This ranks up there with arousing whiplash and hardcore carpal tunnel syndrome. (57th, Google.de)
Is semi-glossy finish better for hardwood floors -- How the fuck should I know? (5th, Google)

May 3, 2004 (2:20 a.m. CDT)
During a late-night run to the local QT for some gas and heavily-discounted candy bars, I noticed a disturbing magazine cover. This month's issue of Redbook features a picture of an unlikely trio of singers: Martina McBride, Celine Dion and Toni Braxton. To the left of the women is the caption "Shhh! Your Private Sex Questions ...Answered". Little did I know that the magazines on the shelf below hid the caption belonging to the cover shot: "THE SECRET LIVES OF STAR MOMS". Ah! Mystery solved! (An alternate cover photo has McBride and Dio standing alongside Melissa Etheridge. I assume this cover has been substituted for the original in regions where lesbians are more accepted than black people.)

Now that the caption confusion has been cleared up, I'm left with the lingering question... Just what sex questions would one pose to Celine Dion? I've made a short list...

• If Réné suggests something kinky in the bedroom, do you respond by singing "If You Asked Me To"?
• Does Diane Warren sit in the bedroom closet and tell you what to say during lovemaking sessions?
• Have you and your husband ever played "Santa and the Naughty Elf"?
• While in Vegas, did you pick up any tips from those Cirque du Soleil guys?

That's it for now. 'Cause you're here in my list, and my list could go on. And on. And on.

April 28, 2004 (2:24 a.m. CDT)
Some random movie thoughts from the past week or so:
-- Quentin Tarantino can switch gears mid-movie better than anybody, past or present.
-- Jersey Girl, even with the presence of George Carlin, turned out to be a family movie. By Kevin Smith. Did I mention Carlin was in it? Liv Tyler has never looked better than in the diner scene, wearing horn rimmed glasses.
-- Too much promo for Van Helsing. And while watching Kate Beckinsale in corset is always a good thing, did she really need to do her second vampire movie in two years?
-- Between Jersey Girl, the Van Helsing trailers and Hellboy (Selma Blair), I think I've reached my monthly quota for lusting after pale women with long, dark hair. No masturbating to cardboard cutouts of Elvira until June.
-- I'm geared up for I, Robot.

And before I go, some more search engine referrals...
"bronson pinchot" gay gossip\ -- Bronson gay? Don't be ree-diculous, Cousin Larry! (30th, Google)
rafael palmeiro interview mississippi state -- Maybe Raffy was trying to spread the Holy Gospel of St. Pfizer to the Miss. St. Bulldogs. (58th, Google)
arabian breasts pics -- Mmm, Barbara Eden. (5th, MSN)

April 20, 2004 (2:53 a.m. CDT)
Let's make this quick and dirty...
freaks download 1932 free -- If I had the choice of what year I could download, I don't think I'd pick anything from the Great Depression. Call me a libertine if you want, but I'd rather opt for the pot-smoking craziness of the mid-1920s. No bananas, indeed. (lots-th, Google)
"Gerald Dupont" Pyramid -- Yay Trashcona! (11th and 12th, Google.ch)
sarah silverman quotes grandmother's vagina -- "Gee Grandma's Twat, what do you think about the war in Iraq?" (1st, Google)
vaccination scar tragically hip mp3 -- The Hip's newest single apparently is protected by some tough anti-piracy measures. (14th, Google)

April 20, 2004 (12:25 a.m. CDT)
So, I'm navigating the boards at Fark, reading all about the recent HIV outbreak in the porn industry. I stumbled across a link to a game called Porn Star Guru. Of course, I had to set up my own character, Mike Thatcher. Click on that link. Or don't.

On a much different note, the St. Louis Rams effectively cut Kurt Warner Monday. I'm crossing my fingers that Dallas picks him up. I'm not a big Warner fan, but he'd be the first legitimate QB the Cowboys have had since Troy Aikman's cashed in his frequent miles card at the CAT scan clinic. The 'Boys have failed to impress this offseason, unloading a petulant receiver in favor of a more petulant one. The big name players who were "on the block" who might've filled Dallas' roster holes (Corey Dillon, Mark Brunell, etc.) went unpursued and two key role players on defense have fled Big D. In addition, rumors are floating around that perennial Pro Bowler Larry Allen wants away from Coach Parcells. Filling in open spots at cornerback and defensive end can be done on draft day, but replacing one of the premier guards in the game does not come easily. Oy.

April 18, 2004 (5:26 a.m. CDT)
I felt the need to make a quick, pointless blog entry. Maybe it's the bottle of Guinness Extra Stout sloshing around in me, or it could be because I want to keep Jenn off my ass. Just maybe.

We're 10 games into the baseball season, and already three of my players have stumbled onto the disabled list. Dmitri Young broke his leg after a grand total of four at-bats. His replacement, Rangers sophomore Mark Teixeira (who I savaged on these pages last year) appeared in all of one game before pulling a muscle in his side. Finally, Colorado CF Preston Wilson bunged up his knee five games into the campaign. Thankfully, I'm only competing against seven other guys, meaning that half-decent replacements are still floating around. More on this later.

Buyin' a new hard drive tomorrow.

April 14, 2004 (2:13 a.m. CDT)
It's been a while. Here's some search engine referrals.
alberta raillines map -- "I sent her a postcard from somewhere near Lethbridge / And wondered if it still went by rail," BNL. (2nd, Google.ca)
qantas matildas nude -- Naked Australians not named Crowe. Nice. (6th, Google)
ETHINIC RHINOPLASTY PICTURES -- MSN's the spellchecker now. OR SO IT SEEMS. (4th, MSN)
chewy onion ring circumcision -- Because nothing reminds me of the act of lopping off an infant's foreskin more than some deep-fried oniony snacks!. (5th, Google)

April 14, 2004 (1:37 a.m. CDT)
Back on Feb. 26, my sweet, sweet friend Jenn (you know, the one with the big tits) implored me end my six-day vacation from the blog and write something. As you can see, it worked like gangbusters! All typos are hers, not mine.

Did you know that the highlight of my day is when I get to sit back, grab a beer and read your latest adventure/blog entry? So when I see that nothing has been written for the past little bit (other than tweaking lines of code, which means absolutely nothing to my computer illiterate brain) I get sorely disappointed and a little bit suicidal because instead of reading about a friend's life in Texas, I have to go and watch the season finale of My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancee... and other shows of lower quality.

In fact, because of the dearth in Gord-ness, I have become severely addicted to decorating and renovating shows such as 'Holmes on Homes' and all varieties of Debbie Travis medium.

In summation: for the love of god write somwthing so you don't hear about a tragic suicide involving various paint solvents and power tools.

Gee, I hope she's okay... So, where the fuck have I been? What have I been doing? To summarize: New job. Totalled the car. Lost a beloved family member. That's it, really. Details to follow.

Maybe.

...

And on a different tack, let me be among those to say: Jew. Explanations here and here.

February 20, 2004 (4:21 p.m. CST)
I've started the long process of modernizing the code on this page. The usual crap: closing <li> tags, nesting my blog entries within <div> tags, adding closing slashes and alt text to my <img> tags and ridding y text of wayward ampersands. I've also introduced CSS to this page, but it hasn't been fully implemented into the code. Fun stuff.

Spring is here. Even after almost three years of Texas living, this still seems like a foreign phrase to utter while still in mid-February. THe last few days have been, to put it mildly, glorious. The sun's shining bright and the first mild gusts have started blowing in from the Gulf. But, like the arrival of the first red-breasted robin marks the end of winter in Manitoba, the activation of the overnight sprinkler system heralds spring's arrival in my apartment complex.

Anyway, it's off to Target. I need tabasco sauce. And rawhide chew sticks. And chips.