I'm a posting machine!

I thought you guys might be proud of my English Ruddy Buddy Katherine for this one. She's on her way to Vancouver at the end of the week, and I mentioned that I'd like to head out there soon.

Her immediate response: "To visit Beta Flight West?"

Beyond the five glories

Friday, I stopped by the video game store, picked up the just-released Sims 2 and NHL 2005, said "Fuck off, outside world!" and didn't home out of my house until Monday morning. It was glorious.

And yet, it occurs to me that this kind of thing doesn't seem to fit with any of the Five Glories. It's not warrior pursuits. It's not romance. It's not shitting. It's not gluttony. It's kind of slothful, so it might be related to sleeping, the fifth glory. But I don't know.

What I'm starting to wonder is whether we might not have overlooked a possible sixth glory having to do with recreation. For me, it might be computer games, but for Scott, it might be pinball or pool.

And a further point to ponder: What about camaraderie? I think this is essentially what made our old ritual of watching Raw so enjoyable. But was it glorious? Or something less?

Finally, on a completely unrelated note, I was just careless about closing off that curtain to my private area and I think Toula might have just seen me naked. That's not glory. That's ignominy.

My baby ... my baby.

I'm not sure if you guys are keeping up with the WWE these days, but they're running a classy angle where Kane impregnated Lita, and this recently ended in a miscarriage when Kane was hit by a chair by some jobber named Gene Snitsky and fell on Lita's stomach. Then she fell off the ring apron, clutched her stomach and moaned, "My baby ... my baby" while D'Lo Brown looked on helplessly.

Wait. That last part was Terri Runnels in 1999.

Anyway, I thought I'd pass on this little bit from Scott Keith's Raw rant. The last bit made me laugh out loud:

And now, what we've all been waiting for: An interview with "Babykiller" Gene Snitsky! It's not his fault! They can actually keep milking this guy for a while. Give him "The Coat Hanger" or "The Abortion" as a finisher, and you're set. In fact, they could run a whole character angle for him whereby Randy Orton gets all the Divas pregnant, and week after week Snitsky attacks them and causes them to miscarry. And he can even have a catchphrase: "It's not a woman's right to choose, it's MY RIGHT TO CHOOSE!" That's MONEY, baby.

Weekend Notes

I coincidentally ran into Mike at the Kingston bus terminal today, just as he was getting off the bus from Montreal that I was about to board to go to Toronto. When asked when I'd arrived in town, I said, "Friday morning." In fact, I meant "Saturday morning." Beta Flight Central regrets the error.

In other news, I was visiting my little sister at Kelseys, where she works, and because I was very hungry, she recommended a hamburger so big that it wasn't even listed on the menu (possibly for reasons of insurance and liability). Its arrival prompted a tableful of impressed onlookers across the restaurant to point at it and give me big thumbs-up signals. I'm proud to say that I ate the entire thing. I am also pleased to report that Amanda captured the spectacle with her digital camera. I'll see if I can upload a photo for you.

The Young and the Homeless

You've always got to admire a good sales pitch. Out in front of a Roger's Video on Davie Street was a cheerful, vagrant fellow that placed an order with me as though I were a cashier at a fast food restaurant. He wanted some spare change so he could buy a chicken turkey ham beef buffalo sandwich with a side order of hamburgers. I immediately imagined Beta Flight East being very proud of him. Unfortunately, I'd earlier given my vegetable noodle beef terriyaki leftovers to one of his peers and as such, couldn't help.

Hammertime!

This past week I've been delivering mail to a funeral home in the east side of Vancouver. On the second or third day of delivery I noticed something odd at the main entrance. There was a small, red hammer perched precariously on a ledge above the front doors. It really looked like it could fall at any moment. My first instinct was to cautiously go inside, find a manager or director or something, and fill them in on this dangerous situation. Then I decided that they probably already knew about it and that it was just an innovative attempt to drum up some new business.

Spec-tacular

My friend Katherine e-mailed me to get my opinion on this. I thought I'd better see what you gentlemen of inestimable quality think:

Look, while I've got you, can you help settle an argument? (hope it's not
one you've already had)Check out Councillor Eileen Kinnear, Harrow on the Hill
Conservative. Is she wearing glasses or not?
http://www2.harrow.gov.uk/mgMemberIndex.asp