Mr Humble Guy

One Year Later...

2006-01-13T07:58:00.000-07:00

Well, it was one year ago today that I started blogging, and I figure that would be a significant enough day to decide to stop. As I said in the previous post, it's just gotten so that I don't enjoy it as much anymore. Trying to come up with something interesting to write about on a semi-regular basis was becoming like work, and I'm the kind of person who likes to do as little work as possible.

But, enough about that. On to the real post for today.

While I love almost every single post that I've ever written on my blog, I will admit that there are a bunch that are better than others. I tried to shorten this list, but I didn't get too far. Oh well. Just click on the ones you want.

Mr Humble Guy's Favourite Posts For 2005

January: Shortly after my first blog post ever, I recalled how I tried to obtain some cheap DVDs and PS2 games with unfortunate results. As well, I posted about a night when I went out drinking with my friends and didn't come home, much to the shock of Mrs Humble.

February: I posted about the wonderful invention called the car alarm and my Valentines day debacle.

March: I had a post where I taught myself a new insult (to my own surprise). There was also the post where I had a face off between Reality Television vs A Kick to the Junk. Finally, I created my own Van Damme movie outline.

April: Here, I decided that I had discovered the worst tagline ever for a company.

May: Iron Keith and I discussed about the merits of a toilet powerful enough to flush the Quran.

June: I had an entry that talked about my recent home renovations and how everything was made more difficult because I was dropping everything. This was the month where I made the (unfortunate) "Diaper Sex" post, as well as found out some shocking news about my wife's new iPod.

July: This post talked about how a lot of movies are showing their logos burning, and and this one remarked at all the different dirty anagrams you could make from "Mr Humble Guy"

August: There was a post where I recalled my diverse range of emotions for my new air conditioning unit. I also explained my problems with the concept of dieting, and began to notice the ill effects of having a post with the title "Diaper Sex".

September: I finally decided to make a post about Hurricane Katrina. There was also an entry where I joked about yoga and one where I was ashamed at some of the CDs I still had.

October: In this post, I gave my faithful readers an easy 21 Step method to having pizza for supper. I also doctored up an image so people could get an idea of what I look like in real life.

November: Here I wrote a letter to 50 Cent inquiring as to why he is so popular, and here I vented my frustrations against a video game.

December: A top contender for my all time favourite post is my public service announcement for people who are having IBS sufferers as house guests. Finally, there was this post where I noted the lack of people in the Christmas spirit this year.

To my regular readers, thank you so much for supporting my blog over this year. Brad, Iron Keith, Silent Observer, Rebecca Marie, Chuck, Rocky, Corporal Kickyourass, Captain Howdy Girl, Wirthy, Elisabeth, and all the others who visited (I know that I'm missing a ton of you, and I'm sorry), I sincerely thank you. I will still try to comment on your blogs every once in awhile.

Who knows? Maybe I'll get that itch again and decide one day to come out of retirement. Or maybe it's just those pesky crabs again and I'll have to go get that special shampoo the doctor recommended. Either way, take care everyone.

Mr Humble Guy

Blog-voyage

2006-01-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

Well, this post is proving rather hard to write, so I figure I'll just make it short and sweet. I've decided to quit blogging.

There are a number of factors that led to this decision, but the most important is that I'm not enjoying it as much anymore. I was struggling to come up with something interesting to read a few times every week, and I've just had enough. I figured it's best to just walk away while I'm still ahead.

That being said, this is not going to be my last post. I just realized that January 13 would have been my one year anniversary of blogging, so I felt it would be significant to make that the date of my last post. I figured that I would do the usual "link back to my favourite posts over the year" deal that a lot of people seem to do. Feel free to come back on then to check it out.

Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who came to read my blog on a regular basis. There are too many to list here, but you know who you are. You guys are the reason I kept it up as long as I did. Thank you all.

Make sure to check back on January 13 to see my last post!

Weekly Wednesday Asshat Award...

2005-12-21T08:40:00.000-07:00

I had a pretty easy time picking out this week's winner. It was something so asshatish, it make me sick to my stomach. This week's winner of the "Mr Humble Guy Award For Outstanding Asshattery" goes to the one, the only, President George W. Bush.

Warming up for the camera

To be honest, I could probably come up with reasons for George W. Bush to be the weekly asshat every single week, but I just had to choose this one. You see, on Sunday night, Mr Bush went on television to address the nation about Iraq. He urged Americans not to give in despair, to continue supporting the fight for freedom, blah blah blah.

Apparently, it was a decent speech. It was something he really needed to do, according to his recent approval ratings.

So, if it was so necessary, why did I choose him as this week's asshat?

That's simple: HE WENT ON TV WHEN THE FUCKING FAMILY GUY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ON!

Un-fucking-believable. I'm sitting down, ready to watch the best show currently on television, and the fucking President comes on every fucking channel. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Family Guy is way more popular than you are. It gets more respect, is twice as intelligent, and is quoted just as often as you for the humorous value. If that wasn't enough, it could probably kick the shit out of you too. While you were pretending to be fighting in Vietnam, Family Guy was preparing for its inevitable debut by taking roundhouse kick lessons from Chuck Norris. That's how much it kicks ass.

Mr President, if ever you have to go on television again, take a quick look at the TV guide. If Family Guy, The Simpsons, South Park, Lost, or any other decent show is on when you are planning to go on the air, you'd better just wait. It doesn't matter if it's a re-run either. Like most people, I'd much rather watch my favourite shows than listen to you.

To be fair, feel free to come on the air when any sort of reality show is on. That cocksucker Mark Burnett can lick my stinky ass.

Luckily, since I have digital cable, I was able to catch The Family Guy at a later time. Still, there is no way I can let this slide. Congratulations, Mr President. You're this week's winner of the "Mr Humble Guy Award for Outstanding Asshattery" trophy.

What are the chances that George W. Bush is an avid fan of the ol' blog, and he'll take my advice to heart?

That Christmas Spirit...

2005-12-19T10:06:00.000-07:00

Being the week before Christmas, I figured it was time to get some shopping done. Honestly, how can you say that you've put enough thought into a gift if you don't think about it for the longest time possible? It takes weeks of careful consideration and thoughtful planning before realizing that the perfect gift is probably something you're going to find out of desperation while you are shopping in the last few minutes before closing time on Christmas Eve.

You people who buy your Christmas presents at the start of the month should be ashamed of yourselves.

Anyway, I try my hardest to get myself in the Christmas spirit every year. The Christmas tree in our house goes up right at the start of December, and Mrs Humble and I decorate the rest of the house shortly afterwards while listening to Christmas music. We're just trying to make our house a sanctuary for the warm Christmas spirit.

Unfortunately, it appears that the majority of people I interacted with this weekend didn't care much for Christmas spirit.

I can understand that when you are shopping next to thousands of other people who you don't know, you don't necessarily want to be overly friendly to everyone you meet. It'd just take too bloody long. What I'm talking about is common courtesy. I've presented three situations here that happened to me this weekend, as well as what you should and should not do to spread good Christmas cheer.

1. You're driving in heavy traffic and I slow down to let you into my lane.

What you should do: Give just a little wave to say, "Yes, I acknowledge that you went out of your way to notice and be courteous to me. Thank you."

What you shouldn't do: Sharply veer in front of me at Mach 2 only inches in front of my bumper and then slam on your brakes, not because there is anyone in front of you, but because you feel like being a dipshit.

2. You're shopping in WalMart during the last weekend before Christmas and you need to stop and look at something in the aisle.

What you should do: Move your cart off to the side. After all, it's pretty busy at WalMart at the best of times, and people might actually want to get by.

What you shouldn't do: Leave your cart sideways. Yes, fucking sideways. It has to completely block off the entire fucking aisle while you read the list of ingredients on a package of deoderant. And scoff at me when I slowly move your cart to the side so I can continue on my way.

3. You and your litter of children have to cross a major lane of a busy parking lot. I stop to let you cross in safety.

What you should do: Give a friendly wave and hurry across the road at a brisk pace with children in tow.

What you shouldn't do: Slowly waddle your thunder thighs into the middle of the road, turn around to yell at your brats, then continue your sluggish waddling while scratching your "Super-sized" ass. Look, I know that you didn't ask to be Lardzilla for Christmas, but whatever happened to being 'jolly'?

A little courtesy could mean the difference between a pleasant day and a steaming pile of shit on the hood of your car. I can spread the Christmas cheer both ways. Which would you rather have?

Weekly Wednesday Asshat Award...

2005-12-14T07:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this didn't actually happen this past week, but I only heard about this story on Tuesday, so it counts. You want to bitch about it? Who's blog is this, huh? That's right, it's mine. I make the rules, so shut the fuck up when I'm talking.

The prestigious "Mr Humble Guy Award for Outstanding Asshattery" trophy is awarded this week to one Shayna Richardson.

Wondering who the hell Shayna Richardson is? Well, back on October 9th, Shayna Richardson was going skydiving solo for the first time. While she was falling, her main chute failed. Her backup chute didn't fully deploy. You know what that means: it's crunch time.

At a speed of about 50mph, she landed face first in an asphalt parking lot...and lived.

The made-for-cable miracle story gets even better: during her reconstructive surgery, doctors found out that Shayna was pregnant...and the baby also lived. So far, we're still doing good.

So, are you wondering why she won this week's Asshat award?

Bitchtits wants to jump again.

Miss Shayna Richardson, let me explain something to you very carefully. If you survive something like that, God obviously wants either you or your baby to live for some reason. But he's also trying to say that YOU SHOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!

He could have made your backup chute open at the last second.

He could have caused a huge wind gust to slow your decent to that of a feather.

Instead, he chose to let you break your fall with your face to teach you a lesson. What lesson was that? Watch your step, bitch. You're fucking pissing me off.

Shayna Richardson had a terrible accident. That's unfortunate. It's the fact that she chose not to learn anything from it that makes her an asshat. I proudly award this week's "Mr Humble Guy Award For Outstanding Asshattery" trophy to Shayna Richardson.

Don't get any big ideas, Shayna. This trophy is afraid of heights.

Now watch as I die of cancer while the "Skydiving-Faceplant Extraordinaire" lives to the ripe old age of 132. Sometimes there's no justice.

Analog Illiterate...

2005-12-12T13:34:00.000-07:00

The strap on my Timex sports watch broke just the other day, so I've taken to wearing my fancy dress watch as my everyday watch. Unlike my cheap digital Timex, my dress watch is an expensive, classy analog beauty. I figured that eventually I'd get around to buying a new strap for the Timex, but since my dress watch looked so damn good, I might just make it my everyday watch.

Then someone asked me what time it was.

Without even looking at it, I told them that my watch was broken and I was unaware of the correct time.

You see, I believe that there is an acceptable response time for that particular question, which is about four seconds. Four seconds is probably pushing it, but we'll say that it is acceptable. If someone asks you what time it is and you take more than four seconds of looking at your watch to reply, then they are legally allowed to brand you as "special".

After having a digital watch for most of my life, I'd gotten so used to seeing the time that way that I've pretty much become "analog illiterate". Sure, I could have told him the time, but it would have taken about a minute of me staring at my wrist like there is Japanese written on it.

Mr Humble Guy doesn't want people to think of him as "special".

To be completely honest, it's not as bad as I make it out to be. I can read time on an analog watch. It's just that I'm not used to having to read time on an analog watch. What took me a fraction of a second before now takes me at least ten seconds. But at least I'm getting better. When I first put it on, I had this little exchange with myself.

Mr Humble Guy: Hmm, what time is it?
Mr Humble Guy checks watch
Mr Humble Guy: Hmm, okay.
Mr Humble Guy walks to the kitchen to check the time on the microwave

I'm thinking that I should just follow Brad's advice and draw a watch on my wrist that is always set to "GO TIME".

Weekly Wednesday Asshat Award...

2005-12-07T09:25:00.000-07:00

Who should it be this week? I was actually considering doing another political one. Saddam Hussein has been quite an asshat in court this week. Actually, he's been quite an asshat every week. I think I'll wait until he completely loses it and starts breakdancing in court before I award him this prestigious trophy.

However, I've decided to award it to a man whose still desperately clinging to his fifteen minutes: Tom Green.

Tom Green: Blessed and cursed with the ability to smell farts through the internet

I'll freely admit that when he first had naked ladies painted on his parents car, I had a hearty laugh. His antics were like nothing I'd ever seen before. But there's a reason for that. Quite soon afterwards, Tom Green's antics got old. He had a television show and a marriage to Drew Barrymore, so he unfortunately stayed in the public eye for awhile.

When those ended, Tom Green quickly faded into obscurity. Oh, if only he could stay that way.

But no, he decided to resurface this week with a rap album. Tom Green doing a rap album. That sentence just pisses me off so much that I don't even know where to begin.

Are they just giving record deals to anyone calling themselves a rap artist now? Pretty soon Barney is going to have a fucking gangsta rap album.

I be down witch you. You be down wit me. I'll bust a cap in yo ass if you dis my family, bitch.

This week I don't need to go into any detail at all. I just have to say it once again: Tom Green released a rap album this week. It's a clear winner for the "Mr Humble Guy Award For Outstanding Asshattery" trophy.

Well, it's no Grammy, but at least it's something...

A PSA From Mr Humble Guy...

2005-12-06T09:25:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned a few times before, I suffer from an unfortunate disorder called Irritable Bowel Syndrome. The only thing that you really need to know about it is that a few times a week, I'm forced to dash to the closest washroom with my thumb up my ass due to a sudden assault of violent stomach cramps and explosive diarrhea.

It's a fairly common disorder, and those who have it learn to live with it. An IBS sufferer learns to carefully plan their trips away from the house. It's important to know how long until the next washroom, how long they can hold it when things start to get bad, and which trees have the softest bark incase they're forced to wipe their ass with it.

One thing that IBS sufferers hate, though, is having to go to the bathroom in someone else's house. The IBS experience in itself is not fun, but when you are in someone elses home, there are so many other factors that can make things worse. This is why I created this list. It is designed to inform hosts of the necessary steps for preparing your bathroom incase of an IBS related emergency.

Have A Good Fan - Most people are worried about the noises they make in the bathroom when other people are in earshot. IBS sufferers make exploding/ripping noises. If you have a good noisy fan installed in the bathroom, it can really minimize what is heard outside the door. This will make both you and the unfortunate soul in the bathroom a little bit more comfortable.
Have An Air Freshener - The quality of a bathroom fan will do nothing to the smell that comes from an IBS sufferer. You'd have to let that fan run nonstop for a week. An air freshener will help cut through the shit smell an IBS sufferer leaves behind. Please make sure it is a spray air freshener and not just something that just sits there, like potpourri. If it is something that just sits there, the IBS sufferer will be forced to violently shake it through the air in order to disperse the freshness more quickly.
Have A Toilet Brush - Probably the most embarrassing thing an IBS sufferer can leave in their host's toilet is streaks/splash marks all over the inside of the porcelin. IBS can be explosive business, and sometimes flushing doesn't get rid of everything. If you have a toilet brush available to them, the IBS sufferer can quickly and quietly clean up their dirty business without anyone being the wiser.
Have A Plunger - No, actually, the single most embarrassing thing an IBS sufferer can leave in their host's toilet is something that plugs it right up. Have a plunger handy, and they'll fix everything themselves. If you don't have one handy, they'll be so embarrassed that I guaruntee they'll never visit again.
Have Something To Read - Unfortunately, IBS can also mean long periods of time in the bathroom, and there is only so many times that one can read the ingredients on the bottle of shampoo.
Try To Have More Than One Bathroom - I know that a lot of people can't avoid this, but if you have more than one bathroom, it will make everything easier for everyone. An IBS sufferer dreads knowing that someone else is going to need to use the bathroom right after them because they can't blame any of the smells, sounds, or splash marks on anyone else. IBS sufferers don't need any more stress in their lives, because it all eventually manifests in their bowels. If you can, have one bathroom for the IBS sufferer, and let everyone else use another.
Most Importantly, Have Enough Toilet Paper - If my host doesn't leave me enough toilet paper, I will freely wipe my ass with a bathmat. I'll plop down and scoot just like a dog. I won't even be discreet about it either: I'll show it to them afterwards and mention that it was because they didn't leave me any fucking toilet paper.

And finally
Do Not Ask "How Are You Doing?" Afterwards - Understand that these people probably just lost five pounds in the amount of time that they were in the bathroom. They'll be okay and they are doing better than they were before they went in the bathroom, but they don't feel like talking about it.

By following this simple tips, you can keep your IBS sufferers as close friends and your bathmats skidmark free.

Flawed Logic...

2005-12-05T08:20:00.000-07:00

The story I tell people:

I needed a new piece of equipment for the basement to aid my already strenuous workout routine, and I found just what I needed at a great price. Pleased with my purchase, I treated myself to a nice dinner.

What actually happened:

I bought a t.v. and then ate two Big Macs.

I'm not joking. It's actually quite pathetic. I get really bored when I'm working out, and I thought that if I had something to entertain me while I'm working out, I would be more likely to do it. So I went to the Wal Mart to check out the prices of televisions. It turns out that a 24" t.v. is only marginally more expensive than a 19" t.v., which was already at a great price, so of course I picked one up.

Because I'm an idiot, I went shopping right before dinnertime without eating first, so now I was starving. There is usually a McDonald's inside the Wal Mart, which is doing wonders for the average size of the North American ass. The McDeal for that day just happened to be a Big Mac. Being quite hungry, I decided to order two of them (which unfortunately led to the McStomachAches, and tragically to the McPoops, but I won't go into any detail about those).

So, to recap: In order to help me workout and get into better shape, I bought a television. Then I ate some of the greasiest, fattiest food that one of the greasiest and fattiest restaurants in North America serves.

Damn I'm good.

A Late Response...

2005-12-02T08:21:00.000-07:00

Two days ago, the grocery store chain Safeway issued a warning to consumers in British Columbia and Alberta that some of the ground beef sold lately could potentially be contaminated with E.coli bacteria.

The problem is that this beef was packaged between October 5th and October 20th. Between just over an month to almost two months ago.

Well, thanks for the warning! Though if you would have told me that when you should have, that E.coli contaminated ground beef wouldn't have spent the last few weeks as an E.coli contaminated turd floating through the sewer system.

In the spirit of this warning, I feel it is my duty to give one too. ATTENTION! A NASTY HURRICANE WILL HIT THE NEW ORLEANS AREA NEAR THE END OF AUGUST 2005. TOURISTS ARE STRONGLY CAUTIONED NOT TO TRAVEL BACK IN TIME TO VISIT NEW ORLEANS DURING THIS PERIOD.

Seriously, they're just figuring this E.coli thing out now? Just as many people purchase ground beef to consume immediately as they do to freeze it. I can only imagine that a large quantity of the people who purchased that beef already had it for dinner weeks ago. Didn't those people get sick? Couldn't they make the connection back then?

Well, at least Safeway is trying to warn the people who still have this stuff in their freezer. I suppose I shouldn't be one to judge. After all, I still have ground beef in the freezer from January 2004.

Weekly Wednesday Asshat Award...

2005-11-30T09:05:00.000-07:00

Until I get bored of it, I'm going to try and make my "Mr Humble Guy Award For Outstanding Asshattery" deal a weekly thing. It gives me some incentive to pay more attention to what is going on in the world, plus forces me to post at least once a week.

Luckily, this week was solid gold for adventures in asshattery. So much so that I will have to announce a tie.

On Monday, Stephen Harper of the Conservative party started a no-confidence vote that toppled the Canadian government, forcing last week's asshat Prime Minister Paul Martin to call an election for shortly after Christmas.

The problem is that this election is going to do NOTHING. Why, you ask? Simple: the majority of Canadians see Stephen Harper as some kind of child-eating demon.

Hey, kid...want a balloon?

The Liberals are going to win again with a minority government and Stephen Harper is going to have to step down. There is no possible way that he can't know that this is what will happen. Maybe he wants to step down? If so, why don't you step down before calling a no-confidence vote, then someone who has more personality than an old tire could take over and perhaps DO SOMETHING!!!

Even worse, now Canadians are going to be harassed for our entire Christmas season by all the fucking campaigning. No, you can't count on my vote. Merry Christmas, and get the fuck off my step before I bootfuck you down the street.

You should have thought this one through, Mr. Harper. Now you're just an asshat.

Well, enough about Canadian politics. Our second winner goes to the performers of the Grey Cup's halftime show: The Black Eyed Peas.

Dressing like a prostitute doesn't make you prettier, you know...

Two years ago at the Grey Cup (Canadian football's Superbowl, for anyone who wasn't aware), a Canadian performer named Shania Twain was heavily criticized for lip synching. For fuck's sakes, her guitar player had mitts on for the entire performance.

Two years later, I'm thinking lip synching might not be so bad.

Let me just put it this way: there are a lot of things that you can do in the recording studio to make you sound good that you just cannot do live. Any tone deaf half-baked "musician" can go into a recording studio and have it come out sounding good. That's the magic of audio recording technicians. To do anything live, the "musician" has to have something that technical people call "talent".

"Talent" doesn't include jumping around like an idiot, singing off key, singing while out of breath, or having a "borderline good looking" girl gyrate on stage.

Lemme just pull up the ol' thesaurus...

The Black Eyed Peas' performance on Sunday was appalling, atrocious, awful, dreadful, ghastly, hideous, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrifying, terrible...you get the idea.

So, I proudly announce our latest winners of the "Mr Humble Guy Award For Outstanding Asshattery" trophy: Stephen Harper and The Black Eyed Peas.

Sorry, guys...you have to share.

Demon Video Game...

2005-11-29T09:09:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the lack of new posts this last little bit. Work has been piling up and I can't just drop everything to blog, considering it pays better.

"Well", you say, "Why don't you blog in the evening?"

Simple. That's Mr Humble Guy's time. And right now, Mr Humble Guy's time is being spent getting my ass handed to me by Soul Calibur 3.

What's that? You want your ass back? Okay, fine. Here you go, Crybaby.

Now, I consider myself a fairly competent gamer. Definately not the best, but I know my way around most video games. As long as it's not a strategy-type game, I can usually do pretty well. Considering Soul Calibur 3 is a fighting game, I figured I would be alright.

No other game has had me screaming at it in frustration as it repeatedly owned me. It's not that it just beat me. It also cheaped me out almost every single match. It could have decided to beat me just normally, but it thought it would be funnier if it juggled me around in the air, perform over-the-top moves that I can't seem to avoid, and generally not allow me to fight back.

Well, it certainly got me riled up. I started to make a few belligerent comments towards the game out of sheer frustration. A certain few that I can remember are worth repeating.

"...come on....come ON....COME ON...NOOOO!!!! FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU GOD-DAMN CHEAP FUCKING GAME!!!"
"NOOOO!!! I PUSHED THE FUCKING BUTTON TO ATTACK, NOT THE BUTTON TO FAG OUT AND GET THE FUCKING SHIT KICKED OUT OF ME!!! FOR FUCK'S SAKES, THIS FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT VIDEO GAME HAS A GOD-DAMN RODNEY KING BUTTON, AND I'M THE FUCKING ONE WHO FOUND IT!!!"
"UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE!!!! I'M GOING TO FIND OUT WHOEVER FUCKING PROGRAMMED THIS FUCKING GAME AND EAT HIS FUCKING CHILDREN!!! FUCKING SON OF A FUCK!!!"
"...heh...that's just fucking great. Alright, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to take you out of the console and TAKE A FUCKING SHIT RIGHT ON YOU! THAT'D MAKE BLOCKBUSTER'S FUCKING DAY, YOU FUCKING STUPID GAME!!!"

As you can imagine, I'm no longer allowed to play when Mrs Humble's parents are visiting.

ASSHATTERY

2005-11-23T14:07:00.000-07:00

As you may have read, Chuck asked me to do a post using the word "Asshattery" at least five times. Such a fantastic and intriguing word, there was no way I could resist.

So, who should I give the inaugural "Mr Humble Guy Award for Outstanding Asshattery" trophy to? Hell, this one is no contest: Canadian Prime Minister Paul Martin.

Surprise! You're an asshat!

Asshattery just oozes from this guy. There are times when he is talking on television that I think to myself, "there is no way he could be any more of an asshat".

Then he blows my mind with even more asshattery.

Even though he was the FINANCE MINISTER at the time, he claims to have known nothing about the huge scandal involving improper use of funds for sponserships. Really, as a finance minister, it's sort of your job to be aware of what is happening with taxpayer dollars.

Yes, outstanding asshattery in today's world must be acknowledged, so I proudly award Prime Minister Paul Martin with the first "Mr Humble Guy Award for Outstanding Asshattery" trophy.

What a prestigious honour!

Dear Mr. 50 Cent...

2005-11-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

Okay, so maybe I'm not the perfect person to be critiquing music or musicians. After all, I dislike pretty much all forms of popular music right now, especially rap/hip hop stuff. However, it's not going to stop me from trying.

Mr. 50 Cent, why the hell are you so bloody popular?

So you got shot 9 times and lived? Well, congratulations. Did you ever think that maybe if you weren't such an asshat, you might not have gotten shot in the first place?

But no...you had to go make a rap album. Now you have millions of dollars with which to spread your general asshattery around. And I get to listen to your monotonous droning every time I turn on a radio. Thank you for that.

Seriously, these text-to-speech programs have more inflection in their voice than you do. Check this shit out.

Anyway, the real reason that I wanted to talk to you was about your new video game. I happened to notice that on the front cover, you look like you're taking a poo that is coming out sideways.

Why the long face? You've lived your life like a piece of shit, and now people can't get enough of you! Come on, let's turn that frown upside-down!

Ugh, that's a face that only a mother could love. Maybe we better work on that a bit.

That's better.

Anyway, I just thought you should smile more. Frowning is for asshats who haven't made millions of dollars performing a god-awful genre of music.

Sincerely,

Mr Humble Guy.

P.S. - Please don't shoot me.

Sugary Sweetness...

2005-11-16T09:20:00.000-07:00

The adult in me wants a breakfast cereal that has at least some nutritional value. The kid in me still likes Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Really, if it weren't for mentioning a rival breakfast product, I would be a walking Mini-Wheats commercial.

So as you can see, I have a small problem when it comes to breakfast. I'm trying to eat a little bit healthier, but unless a cereal has a significant amount of sugar, it won't make it into my shopping cart. It just seems like so many different cereals that try to be healthier just end up tasting like ass.

And no, I've never tasted ass.

Shreddies: I might as well be eating drywall.

All Bran (or any other high-fiber cereal): I don't have a few free hours to spend on the toilet holding on for dear life.

Special K: Okay, I'd admit that this one doesn't taste bad. It doesn't taste like anything, actually. You put it in your mouth and go, "What the hell?" If it didn't crunch, you wouldn't even know it was there. It's the fucking stealth commando of breakfast cereal.

And I try to give all these cereals an honest try, too. I'll usually try to finish the box before I make a final judgement.

Anyway, in Canada we have this new cereal called "Tony's Turboz" (in the US I believe it is marketed as "Tiger Power").

It's supposed to be a cereal with a bunch of balanced nutrients and "just the right amount of sweetness". I'm thinking that this is exactly what I need. It's aimed at kids, so how bad could it be? So, I decided to give it a try.

Well, "just the right amount of sweetness" means "it tastes like tree sap". It tasted so horrible, I couldn't even finish the box. I had a hard time finishing what was in my bowl.

I should have known better when I saw that Tony doesn't mention on the front cover that this cereal is GR-R-REAT. I mean, he's pretty liberal with his compliments.

Yet he doesn't mention it anywhere on the box. Maybe he had a moral objection to selling a horribly flavoured cereal?

Tony: Hey kids! Try my new cereal! It's GR-R-NOT THAT GOOD!

Well, I'm sure you can guess my final verdict. Tony's Turboz, I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Le French Riots...(hwah hwah hwah)

2005-11-10T07:36:00.000-07:00

As I'm sure you've heard, there has been rioting in France for about two weeks now. Nothing but firebombing and clashes with police for fourteen days. I'll be honest, I didn't care enough to look up the reason why they're rioting. I mean, come on...they're French.

What I did notice, however, was the measures that France has undertook to quell the violence. This is the most violence that France has seen in about forty years, and the government is not taking it lightly. In fact, I was shocked at the severity of the French government's actions.

They imposed a curfew.

Well hallelujah! France is saved!

But seriously, what is that supposed to do?

Pierre: Listen, Jacques. I had a great time torching those cars and throwing rocks at those riot police, but it's almost 10:00pm! Blowing up stuff is one thing, but breaking curfew is just going too far!

Jacques: You're right, Pierre. Geez...breaking curfew...we could get a ticket for that!

My Issue With Star Wars...

2005-11-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

Note: I am fully prepared to embrace the wrath of the Star Wars fanboys by writing this post.

You see, I've always been a fan of the Star Wars movies, including the new ones. The reason I can enjoy them is because I don't try to hold them to a super high standard. I can check my mind at the door and just enjoy watching CGI explosions and grown men fighting with sticks.

And yes, I have heard all the criticism that the prequels have received. I didn't ever really join in, because there is no point in arguing with a scorned Star Wars nerd.

I think the only real problem that I have with the Star Wars movies is the whole deal with Anakin and "The Prophecy". You see, in the movie there is a prophecy that one person will be able to bring balance to the Force. The key word here is balance.

At this point in the movie, there has only been one Sith discovered. One particular Jedi remarks that "the Sith have been extinct for a millenium".

Liam Neeson, a Jedi, who is standing in a room full of Jedis, which I believe is located in an school of the Jedis, tells everyone that Anakin is going to be the one to bring balance to the force.

Lemme just go over the key points one more time.

1. One sith vs A shitload of Jedis.

2. Anakin is going to be the one who brings balance.

I mean, what the fuck did they think would happen? You'd think that Yoda would catch on. "Balance to the Force, this boy will bring. KILL US ALL, THAT FUCKER WILL! WANT TO DIE, YODA DOES NOT!"

But no, they train him so that he can more effectively wipe them out.

I tell ya, Dark Helmet had it right. "Evil will always triumph, because good is dumb."

#@!%

2005-11-02T08:31:00.000-07:00

Last night I was watching a Canadian stand up comedy show called "Comedy Now! Uncensored". The comedian wasn't overly funny, but that didn't stop me from watching the entire episode. Hey, I'm a lazy guy.

Anyway, during one of his jokes, they bleeped out the word "titties".

Well, thank the lord! Can you imagine what a shit storm it would have caused to have heard the worst swear in the entire English language being said on an "uncensored" comedy show?

But seriously, I have issues with this.

#1 - It's supposed to be an "uncensored" show. That means nothing gets bleeped out. I don't care if it shows a woman having sex with a horse and a turtle, if it's on an uncensored show, you better show that hot bestiality action. (Oh man, I can only imagine how I'm going to show up in the search engines now)

#2 - "Titties" is not a swear. It's not even marginally a swear. If "titties" are a swear, then "wieners" should be a swear too. That'd really screw over Oscar Meyer, wouldn't it?

Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer #@!%...

If You Missed It...

2005-11-01T07:49:00.000-07:00

For those of you who didn't get a chance to see me in my Halloween costume, I decided to post a picture.

Incase you were wondering, that's not a prosthetic tongue. I've been doing tongue stretches for months. It was a necessity if I wanted to properly rock and roll all night and party ev-ur-ee day .

Mr Humble Guy Sounds Off On Unions

2005-10-31T09:32:00.000-07:00

Fucking unions.

In Alberta and British Columbia, the union for a major telecommunications company called Telus is currently on strike. The main issue seems to be job security. In fact, it better be job security, because these fucking shitheads get paid better than most everyone else in a similar position.

Recently, union leaders and Telus negotiators reached an agreement. Great, now that all the issues have been worked out and both sides are satisfied with the conditions, everyone can get back to work.

The union voted against it.

Okay, pull your heads out of your collective asses long enough to listen to this: you guys choose union leaders to make decisions that would be a benefit for you all. If you're not going to listen to them, you shouldn't have fucking chose them.

Fucking unions.

My wife is currently contracted out to a NON-UNION position in Telus. This isn't a position that was vacated by someone going on strike...it has always been a NON-UNION position. So, one more time just to be clear, she is not replacing anyone who is currently on strike. However, every time she goes to work, she gets harassed by these fucking lowlives who are too stupid to realize what they're even striking from.

I could only imagine what it would be like to talk to these guys.

	So, Mr. Union Leader...what seems to be the problem?
	THEY TOOK OUR JOBS!
	Uh, what do you mean by that? I thought you guys went on strike
	NO! THEY LOCKED US OUT!
	Actually, wasn't it just B.C. that was locked out? And didn't you just go on strike in sympathy?
	...
	...
	...THEY TOOK ER JOBS!
	But, what do you mean by that? Who took your jobs?
	THEY WERE GOING TO SEND ALL ER JOBS OVERSEAS! WE HAD NO JOB SECURITY! DEY TUK ER JER!
	So, the fact that they guarunteed your job security in the negotiations didn't mean anything?
	...
	...
	TUK ER DURR!
	Do you even know why you're striking?
	JIHAD!

Don't fool yourself, people. Unions had their place before, but now they're nothing but a tool for useless lazy people to hide behind.

Fucking unions.

My Identical Twin?

2005-10-26T08:59:00.000-06:00

Recently, I've had a few people email me to ask what I actually look like. For some reason, they didn't seem to think that my profile pic was actually an illustration of me.

Well, I like to keep at least a little bit of anonymity on the net, so I'm afraid that I won't be posting my exact picture. However, I thought I could try to find a picture of someone with similar features to give these people an idea of what I looked like in real life. That way, I can continue to blog normally and not have strangers come up to me on the street saying, "Hey, you're the guy who comes up in the Top 10 for MSN searches on 'Diaper Sex'!"

If you want to check out that I am actually in the top 10 for a MSN search on 'Diaper Sex', I'll just wait patiently until you get back...

Anyway, I did a little bit of searching on the net, and I finally found a picture of someone who looks like me. He has many of the same features. Really, the resemblance is uncanny.

Looks just like me!

The only difference that I can see is that I'm not black.

A Narrow Miss...

2005-10-24T08:05:00.000-06:00

The highlight of my weekend had to be when I almost died at our local Home Depot. I was standing at the checkout counter, minding my own business, when I was almost crushed by a load of insulation that had fallen off the pile.

The brand name of the insulation was called "Safe 'n' Sound".

Now That's Just False Advertising...

2005-10-21T10:25:00.000-06:00

As a young kid, I remember that I loved going shopping with my mom at West Edmonton Mall. I was from a small town, so I was quite overwhelmed by all the unique stores that I was seeing for the first time. Believe it or not, I can even remember going into my very first dollar store. Was I so naive to think that everything in the store would only cost $1? Even with a name like "Everything For A Dollar"...

Sure enough, as we walked down the aisles: $2.00...$2.00...$1.00...$3.00...$2.00...

As times changed, the dollar stores really threw me for a loop: Items for $1.50. Still, I like my cheap junk, and it's an easy enough number to work with, so I let it slide.

However, while in a dollar store this week, I saw something that was quite out of place. You can see them in lots of other stores, but this definately did not belong here. In fact, it's mere appearance in this store both shocked and angered me.

It was a price tag that said $1.39.

Well, I snapped. Right there next to the cheap paintbrushes and stove element liners, I had a little temper tantrum.

Mr Humble Guy: FOR FUCK'S SAKE! A DOLLAR FUCKING THIRTY NINE? WE'RE IN A FUCKING DOLLAR STORE! EVERYTHING IS SUPPOSED TO COST A FUCKING DOLLAR! WHAT THE FUCK IS NEXT? SOMETHING COSTING SIX TWENTY THREE? FUCKING HELL! GOD DAMN FUCKING HELL!

As you can imagine, Mrs Humble ushered me out the door before I got kicked out. Could you imagine being kicked out of a dollar store?

Anyway, how the hell can they get away with this? I don't think that I can stress this enough. You can't just charge things in increments of a dollar and call yourself a dollar store. As well, you can't just have stuff priced near a dollar and call yourself a dollar store. Call me old fashioned, but I think that if you're a dollar store, things better be fucking priced at one goddamn dollar.

$1.39...where will it fucking end?

Billy Bob: Where'd you get the new car, Jim Bob?
Jim Bob: I picked it up at the "Everything For A Dollar" store. Only cost me $12,973.62

21 Steps to Pizza

2005-10-19T11:57:00.000-06:00

Do you feel like having pizza for dinner, but don't know what to do? Well, look no further. Thanks to my unsurpassed culinary skills, I am pround to introduce the "Mr Humble Guy Method" for pizza. Just follow my simple 21 step method, and you too can be eating fresh, hot pizza! Hey, if it worked for me, it'll work for you.

Place four chicken breasts in a cassarole dish.
Make comment to your significant other about how you are "playing with breasts".
When she pretends that she didn't hear you, make comment again.
Slice the chicken with a sharp knife to form a pocket
Cut yourself with sharp knife because you're not paying attention.
Swear a blue streak
Disinfect wound thoroughly, because open wounds and chicken juice don't go well together
Coat chicken breasts in greek salad dressing.
Check expiry date on greek salad dressing.
Wash expired greek salad dressing off of chicken.
Drive to the grocery store and get non-expired greek salad dressing. Re-coat chicken breasts.
Search for the feta cheese that you swore you bought
Drive to the grocery store again because you forgot to buy feta cheese.
Cut feta cheese into small chunks.
Stuff way too much feta cheese into chicken pocket.
Place cassarole dish in oven at 400°. Don't bother setting a timer, because you're responsible enough to be able to keep track of the time remaining.
Sit down to watch hockey. Swear at the TV regardless if your team is winning or losing.
Realize once the game is over that there seems to be a lot of smoke in the room.
Take charred remains of feta-stuffed chicken out of oven.
Swear a blue streak.
Call Pizza Hut. Have your credit card ready.

Getting To Be Ri-god-damn-diculous...

2005-10-13T08:49:00.000-06:00

Browsing through the news yesterday, I came across a story about a woman who had just given birth to her 16th child. 16 fucking children in 18 years...

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that those children are going to grow up to be olympic swimmers.

Look, the rhythm method of birth control obviously isn't working for you guys. It's just like blogger Wirthy said, "c'mon, you ever heard of a condom?"

Well, it turns out that they wanted to have another child. And they want more! That's why they didn't name their kids "Iruinedmommyslife", "Makefunofme", or "Voteprochoice".

Instead, they gave every kid a name starting with "J". Some examples are "Jedidiah", "Josiah", and "Jinger". "Jinger" is a bit of a stretch, isn't it? And she was only the 6th one! You'd figure that at this rate, they'd really be struggling for different "J" names. I can't wait until I hear about the birth of "Jphillip", "Jmichael" or "J-zee".

Why My Marriage Works...

2005-10-11T08:38:00.000-06:00

Reason #1 of why my marriage works: I only have eyes for her.

Example: We were driving back to my hometown for Thanksgiving when I spotted a peculiar truck parked on the side of the road.

Mr Humble Guy: Did you see that?
Mrs Humble: No, what was it?
Mr Humble Guy: That guy had a decal of a naked woman on the tailgate of his truck.
Mrs Humble: (sound of disgust)
Mr Humble Guy: If I had a truck, I'd put a decal of a naked woman on the back of it.
Mrs Humble: Oh really...
Mr Humble Guy: Don't worry, hon. It'd be a picture of you.
Mrs Humble: ...

The Greatest Thing...

2005-10-04T07:27:00.000-06:00

Since we moved to our new house in Calgary, I've noticed that I'm doing a lot more housework than I used to do. My "friends" like to bug me about this by saying that I'm now wearing the panties in the house. In truth, the reason that I'm doing more housework is that I'm starting to take pride in the appearance of my home, and since I have to spend nearly all of my day there, it might has well look good.

The reason I wear panties is strictly a comfort issue.

Anyway, my wife always used to do the sweeping of the linolium, and apparently the "best" thing to use is a contraption called the Swiffer Sweeper.

From the way that I've heard people talk, you'd think that the Swiffer Sweeper is the greatest thing since sliced bread. These things can supposedly pick up anything: dust, lint, flour, cocoa, gonorrhea...

What was I supposed to think? I had to give it a try. After all, the kitchen just had a little bit of dust. This should be no match for my Swiffer.

I soon found out that "Fucking Useless" is now spelled S-W-I-F-F-E-R.

Look, if I wanted to just push the dirt around the room, I would have used the greatest thing before sliced bread: my fucking foot.

Come to think of it, that whole "sliced bread" saying is fucking retarded. Sliced bread isn't all that impressive. Bread + Sharp Knife = Sliced Bread. It's really that simple. I still think the human foot is more impressive, but I suppose it's a personal preference.

Look on the bright side! At least you still have sliced bread...

I Swear...Someone Else Bought Them!!!

2005-09-30T19:10:00.000-06:00

Despite warnings that it could be hazardous to my health, I went ahead and bought an 20GB iPod Photo recently. The sleek cool factor to this little piece of hardware proved too tempting for me, and the roughly 5000 song capacity was just the cherry on top of my click-wheel and colour screen sundae.

But as I was walking out of the store with my new music machine, I had a sudden difficult question arise: are there even 5000 songs that I like?

I’ve noticed that lately I hate way more music than I like. I rarely listen to radio anymore, haven’t bought a CD in months, and haven’t downloaded a song since sometime last year. My Launchcast station is filled with thousands of ratings of “Never Play On My Station”. I’m sorry, but nothing will ruin my day like hearing hip hop, ska, rap, punk, folk, emo, new age, techno, pop rock, cock rock, crap rock, overrated but under-talented classic rock, or religious music. Hey, I just like music that doesn’t suck.

Well, at least I have my CD collection that I’ve been amassing since I was 12.

Have you ever gone over your CD collection and wondered, “What the hell was I thinking when I bought this?” I had this happen to me as I took a good look at mine. I still have some of the first CD’s I ever bought…and my tastes have apparently changed over time.

So, I decided to show you a few select samples of my collection, and let you know what I must have been thinking when I bought them.

Ren & Stimpy: Radio Daze

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: I have too much money.

Def Leppard: Hysteria

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: No, Dan, I don’t know what has 9 arms and sucks. But I’m about to buy this CD, so tell me the punch line when I get back, okay?

Snow: Informer

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: Man, this guy rocks! “Informa, you know she gobbada ya de abba playa, I lick you bum bum, yeah!”

Soundtrack: Encino Man

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: Pauly Shore is a comic genius! And this is the soundtrack to a movie that Pauly Shore was in! It has to be good!

Blind Melon: Blind Melon

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: They’ve got to have more than one good song…(famous last words for a lot of the CD’s that bought)

Soundtrack: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: GO NINJA! GO NINJA! GO!!!

Savage Garden: Savage Garden

Mr Humble Guy Must Have Been Thinking: …but how am I going to convince everyone at the party that I’m a homosexual?

Needless to say, I haven't filled up my iPod yet.

Yoga Is Awesome...

2005-09-23T00:16:00.000-06:00

My buddy IronKeith brought this to my attention yesterday while he was busy doing things other than work. MSN had a page up promoting a segment called "What's Your Yoga Style". I wasn't particularly interested since I figured yoga is yoga, but I checked out the page anyways.

I was a little surprised to notice that the picture that they chose to promote the segment was that of a man performing fellatio on himself.

Really, out of all the yoga pictures that they could have chosen, they went with that one. What was the thought process on this one? How can one not see the obvious sexual depiction? People who make decisions like this make blogging easy.

Perhaps if they changed the title of the article?

Well, at least someone else noticed it. When I checked a few hours later, they had changed the picture to one a little more PG-13.

I wonder if there are yoga classes near my house...

Ikea Addendum...

2005-09-22T13:17:00.001-06:00

I had to post this addendum to my previous Ikea post. Take a look at this picture.

Now, if you can't understand the extremely detailed and easy-to-follow Ikea illustrations of how to build your new piece of furniture, then the Ikea illustrations of what to do when you are confused will leave you absolutely proper fucked.

If you're staring at the box all confused-like, then go to Ikea, grab one of our phones, take it about a quarter-mile outside the door, tangle yourself in the cord, and give us a call. That will make everything better.

I...I...I...IKEA!!!

2005-09-21T08:19:00.000-06:00

Last night, Mrs Humble and I decided that we needed a coffee table that would suit our new house, so we went to Ikea. As per usual, I was kinda ho-hum about going. Not that there is anything wrong with Ikea...it's just not my favourite place to be.

That is, until last night.

In general, shopping carts only have two wheels that can change direction. It's just like a car: the back wheels are locked straight, while the front two can rotate in order to make the necessary turns. As well, at least one of these four wheels has a rock stuck in it so it won't roll at all.

The Ikea shopping cart, on the other hand, has all four wheels that can rotate, which means unparalleled maneuverability. You could push it sideways if you wanted! Plus, all four wheels rolled effortlessly. To top things off, since we were at Ikea so late in the day, the place was damn near empty.

What choice did I have? I had to do freestyle shopping cart, much to the dismay and embarrassment of Mrs Humble. Trust me, you won't believe how much fun it is until you try it. "Oh, what? We have to make a left turn now? Well, I'll just spin this cart in a quick 270° turn, then whip it around for a reverse 360° and we'll be on our way."

Seriously, I want an Ikea shopping cart for Christmas.

Anyway, we got our stuff home, and I assembled all of our new purchases. I've heard that some people actually have a problem assembling stuff from Ikea. Personally, I've never had a problem, but I can understand why some people might get a bit frustrated. Hell, one of the first diagrams tells you to stare at the box looking confused.

For those few people who can't get past this stage, you should look at like this: Ikea furniture is like Lego for adults. If you can't follow the instructions, then you can probably still build something pretty cool instead and call it your own. I just wouldn't recommend sitting on it, though.

Moving On...

2005-09-20T00:20:00.000-06:00

I successfully made the move from Edmonton to Calgary this past weekend, and now that I've got my internet back up, I can resume my busy schedule of wasting time.

But seriously, moving can be quite taxing on the body. Mrs Humble had been getting stuff packed up for weeks, so when we got the moving truck on Friday, we'd be all ready to go. However, it was just going to be the two of us moving all of our crap into the truck...and we have a lot of crap. Loading the truck became an all-day affair.

Moving can also be quite taxing on your relationship with your significant other. You both know that it's going to be stressful, and you both try to maintain a pleasant demeanour, but it's really hard when your exhausted. Consider this re-enactment*:

8:30am
Mr Humble Guy: Okay, we got the truck! Let's get this sucker packed up!
Mrs Humble: I can't believe we're packing up to move to Calgary! I love you!
Mr Humble Guy: I love you too sweetie!

11:00am
Mr Humble Guy: Whew! This is tough. Let's take a short break...my legs are a bit sore.
Mrs Humble: Okay, but I want to get back to it right away.
Mr Humble Guy: ...okay, forget about it. Let's go. Love you.
Mrs Humble: Love you too.

2:00pm
Mr Humble Guy: Don't put that box there!
Mrs Humble: Why the hell not?
Mr Humble Guy: CAUSE I GOT A FUCKING SYSTEM AND THAT BOX DOESN'T GO THERE, THAT'S WHY

2:01pm
Mr Humble Guy: I'm sorry I yelled. I love you
Mrs Humble: It's okay. I love you too

2:05pm
Mr Humble Guy: I'M NOT SORRY I YELLED ANYMORE!!!
Mrs Humble: YOU'RE THE ANTICHRIST!!!

2:06pm
Mr Humble Guy: Sorry
Mrs Humble: Sorry

5:00pm
Mr Humble Guy: Holy fucking shit, we've been loading fucking shit into that fucking truck all fucking day and we still have tons of fucking shit left to load
Mrs Humble: ...your point is very subtle...

7:00pm
Conversation has descended to pointing and grunting

8:00pm
My brother Dan arrives to help
Dan: Well you guys have been packing all day, and if you keep trying to Tetris everything in here, we'll be here all night. It's time to just start tossing shit in.
Mr Humble Guy: (approving grunt)
Mrs Humble: (approving grunt)

11:00pm
Mr Humble Guy: (grunt)..mm.nrr...sonofa...(grunt)...mrrr...done...
Mrs Humble: (blink)
Mr Humble Guy: ...love you...
Mrs Humble: (grunt)

* This "re-enactment" is an extreme exaggeration of actual events. All quotes are not "word for word" or even "accurate" and "may not have even happened". The grunts, on the other hand, are 100% accurate...

The Power Of Poo

2005-09-14T15:34:00.000-06:00

The other night I was woken up rather rudely by my bowels letting me know that it was time to poo. In fact, they made it quite clear that it was time to poo. The fact that it was 2:30am didn't matter to them. That's the joy about having Irritable Bowel Syndrome: if you've ever wanted to be woken up from a peaceful slumber because of gut-wrenching cramps, then boy howdy you're in luck.

To make matters worse, not only am I on the can at 2:30am with my insides feeling like they're churning butter, but my nose is completely plugged up. Some of you may argue that I might not want to smell my foul deeds and a stuffy nose is a good thing, but I'd much rather be able to breathe normally. Besides, another wonderful thing about IBS: just because your stomach tells you that you need to poo doesn't mean you'll be able to poo right away.

Case in point: I was sitting there for an hour before I was finally able to go. Seriously, an hour.

Funny thing, though...once I finally did poo, my nose cleared up.

I'll let you draw your own conclusions.

On another note, there is a funny thing that I've noticed about the medication that I take for IBS. I decided to look up some of the side effects of these pills, and I found that they included possibility of: intestinal discomfort, constipation, and diarrhea (among others).

Intestinal discomfort...constipation...and diarrhea. In other words, possible side effects are that IT MIGHT NOT FUCKING WORK AT ALL!

Well, Someone Had To Say It...

2005-09-07T15:19:00.000-06:00

I've actually spent about a week mulling over the political correctness of blogging about the Hurricane Katrina disaster. As you know, it's not my style to blog about anything really serious. I blog to make fun of the stupid stuff that happens in life, and for me to joke about anything Katrina-related would probably be crossing the line for a lot of people.

Then again, I didn't start this blog with the intention of making friends, so here we go.

Hurricane starts. There is massive destruction and the death toll is unknown.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: My goodness, that's terrible...I mean, it's on every single channel...
Days afterwards, people start looting.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: Well, they haven't been receiving a lot of supplies. They probably just need food. Go ahead, looters! Stick it to the Man!
Video of the looting shows people stealing computers and televisions.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: You fucking morons! What are you going to do with a computer? THERE'S NO FUCKING POWER!
People at the Superdome complain that they're stranded.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: I can understand that some people are injured and cannot move easily on their own. These people need a bus to take them somewhere safe. But the last time I checked, buses don't float too well. That means if they're transporting people out by bus, there must be a clear road. If you're so desperate to get out of there, then get off your fucking ass and walk.
Some of the rescue workers get shot at by the people they are trying to save.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: Uh, I don't think that's really helping the rescue operations go any more smoothly, but thanks for trying...
A benefit concert with a bunch of celebrities is to be held.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: Okay, so a bunch of guys whose combined income is in the billions are going to appear on television without having to make a contribution themselves to plead for money from the public. That's a pretty good deal for these celebrities: An awesome publicity stunt without any up-front cost.
At said benefit concert, Kanye West departs from his scripted comments and says that President George Bush doesn't care about black people.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: Who was that nigger up there with Mike Myers? (I realize that I'm probably creating a shit storm by using the 'n' word, but everyone just calm down. I'm only kidding. I honestly don't hate black people.)
While he is on a rescue mission, Sean Penn's motor boat gets a hole in it and starts taking on water. He is able to bail the water out and get back to shore safely.

Mr Humble Guy thinks: Goddammit! Who gave that man a bail?

Well, now that I've said all that, I've probably got a lot of nasty comments coming my way. Time to duck and cover...

What Have I Done?

2005-08-29T15:14:00.000-06:00

No matter what sort of content you have on a website, inevitably you'll get some unintended traffic. People who are looking for something totally different will eventually find your site. And perhaps if you were to use words like "huge motherfucker" and "concentrated liquid evil" in your website, you might get some pretty weird people stumbling upon your humble little space on the web.

I bring this up as I notice that my site is getting more than a few visits by people searching for "Diaper Sex".

Seriously, guys...get some fucking help. I mean, some people have the weirdest fetishes. What happened to just fucking the cat and shitting in your woman's purse?

Anyways, I'm thinking to myself, what other fucked up shit can I type in my blog to attract these weird fuckers? I don't imagine I'll get any traffic from any of these phrases, but hey, the more the merrier.

poop stain munchies

goat lipstick

stinky toe jam pictures

blender coitus

how get cum stain out of moose hair

crap flinging tournament movies

I had sex with a porcupine and all I got was this lousy t-shirt

Ah, the American Dream!

2005-08-26T16:14:00.000-06:00

So I was checking out the news on Yahoo when I noticed something peculiar at the bottom:

Out of the five most recent stories on the Entertainment section of Yahoo, three of them mention people being sued.

Three out of five.

That's insane.

Why isn't it all five?

What kind of society have we become that we value other news over stories of entertainers being sued? Why aren't we living the American Dream?

If those other two stories have anything to do with lawsuits, they should explicitly express that in the headlines:

Winfrey 'furious' at Snubbing Allegations, sues Chicago Defender, City of Chicago, Jesus
Alleged Trespasser Enters Aniston's Home, presumably to sue

Now watch as Yahoo sues me for illegally using their material...

Don't worry, I'll just sue them for suing me, and then sue for having to counter-sue. Despite being Canadian, I know how to live the American Dream.

Meat From Where?

2005-08-24T11:47:00.000-06:00

I live in an area of Edmonton that has a large population of East Indians, so I've gotten used to being surrounded by people wearing turbans. This doesn't really bother me at all, because I'm generally very respectful of other peoples races, cultures, religions, and the like. I figure they have just as much right to be there as I do.

That being said, every once in awhile my maturity level takes a dip.

Mrs Humble and I were finishing up at the hardware store, where our clerk happened to be East Indian. I was very polite, payed for my purchases, and got out the main door before I shamefully let out a giggle. The clerk's name was Arshmeet.

Arshmeet...

Arse-meat?

I know what you're thinking: oh, really mature, Mr Humble Guy. But come on! If she grew up in Edmonton, you know that she must have been bugged about that in school! Besides, if you want maturity, you're on the wrong blog.

Great, now I'm going to get a bunch of traffic from guys searching for "arse meat"...

Crrrappy Names...

2005-08-23T10:15:00.000-06:00

In Canada, we have a chain of coffee shops called Second Cup that does what coffee shops do best: sell marginally appealing beverages for outrageous prices. I don't go very often for this very reason, but every once in awhile I have a few bucks to waste. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Give it to the needy? You crack me up.

Anyway, it turns out that the feature for the month at Second Cup is the Frrrozen Hot Chocolate. I'll admit that I don't exactly know what Frrrozen is, but I do know what Frozen is, and if Frrrozen is anything related to Frozen, then we have a problem.

You see, frozen is a term related to temperature, basically meaning to solidify due to absence of heat. Hot is also a term related to temperature, basically meaning having an abundance of heat. The two are in direct conflict, and poor chocolate is stuck in the middle.

But seriously, shouldn't Frozen and Hot cancel each other out? Obviously "rr Chocolate" doesn't have the same effect, but you can't argue with science. And what the fuck is up with the extra "r"'s? Is it supposed to elevate the word Frozen so that it's something more? Is it supposed to mean that it's colder than frozen? Or perhaps it's supposed to depict someone so cold that they can't even pronouce the word properly? Well, I've got a frozen stutter for Second Cup: fffuck you and your stupid fffucking drink. Call it what it really is: a chocolate slush. I might actually try it then.

Sorry for the rant, but the stupidity of some people really bugs me. Especially when said people make more money than I do.

On a side note, I'm thinking that the Frrrozen Hot Chocolate has got to be the official drink of Icy Hot Suntaz.

Communism Just Doesn't Fly...

2005-08-18T08:47:00.000-06:00

As I have mentioned a few times before, my I.Q. drops about 50 points during the night, and doesn't recover until at least five minutes after I've woken up. Therefore, as soon as I wake up, I'm retarded for a few minutes.

...I've also mentioned before that I wake up to the TV instead of an alarm clock, since I like to catch a bit of the news in the morning.

When you put these two together, you can sometimes get some pretty interesting results. Like yesterday morning, for example. I happened to hear something about a Canadian CF-18 fighter jet crashing during a training excercise in Quebec. The only reason that I paid any attention to it was because it seems the last few weeks have been a bad few weeks to fly (what with the crashes in Greece and Venezuela). Then I thought that I heard that the pilot, Captain Karl Marx, ejected to safety.

...wait a minute...Captain Karl Marx?

Captain Karl Marx, Defender of the Proletariat, is out to kick some Bourgeois ass

Ah, Captain Karl. Your plane flew in theory, but it just didn't work in the real world.

Unfortunately, it turns out that the pilot's name was actually "Colin Marks", which I apparently missed in my morning stupor. I suppose it's for the best. That kid would have been bugged mercilessly in Grade 9 social studies class.

Mr Humble Guy on Dieting

2005-08-12T08:43:00.000-06:00

Okay, I need to get this out in the open right off the bat: I'm not overweight, and I don't have a lot of fat on me.

That being said, I'm also on a high protein, low fat diet right now. The reason for this is that the bit of fat that I do have is right on my belly, meaning I don't have the rock-hard tasty abs look that I want. And even though that I've been working out almost four times a week for the last few months, I haven't noticed much of an improvement in my belly area. Thus, the specialized diet.

I've been on it for about a week now, and I have so much sympathy for anyone struggling to stay on a diet. I'm thinking about food constantly, which is making me hungry all the time! I feel like Peter off of "Family Guy" when he asks the network executive, "Are you gonna eat that stapler?"

And I've heard tons of advice that doesn't work:

Protein will make you feel full for longer. Well, it's supposed to, but I've been eating five ounces of protein-rich food (like salmon and tuna) at every meal in addition to all the other stuff I have to eat...and I'm still hungry
Eat slower, and you'll feel more full. Yeah, I tried that. I even tried stretching a meal over an hour long period. It just made my food cold, and I was still hungry afterwards.
Eat more fiber, and you'll feel more full, plus it helps keep you regular. Unfortunately, I tried this. And yes, it did make me feel more full...for a while. This is where the "keeping me regular" part comes in. Yes, it did keep me regular. At regular five-minute intervals, I was running the the can to release some of the most explosive diarrhea known to man. In a choice between being hungry and having concentrated liquid evil shooting out my ass, I choose being hungry.

Anyway, my diet took a huge hit yesterday. I was doing a bunch of home reno work to surprise Mrs Humble, and I worked up a hunger that 5 ounces of tuna, 2 slices of rye bread, 1 cup romaine lettuce, 1/2 cup sliced carrots, 2 tbsp of fat-free dressing, and an cup of orange juice just couldn't fill. No, this was a hunger that only a pizza and a half could fill, and believe me, I enjoyed every grease-laden bite of it.

PS: The diet has actually been working so far. I have lost a few pounds already, and provided that I don't have anymore pizza episodes, I'll hopefully notice a difference in my waist by the end of the month.

Mr Humble Guy Attempts Arguement...Makes Ass Of Self...

2005-08-09T11:39:00.000-06:00

You know it's a slow news day when a story like this is posted:

I mean, seriously? Someone mowing a lawn becomes news? Why would anyone be interested it this? You see stupid crap like this all the time. A half-baked reporter could write a piece about even the most mediocre of quasi-celebrities doing something absolutely trivial, and the stupid public would want to read about it.

Perhaps my arguement would be stronger if it wasn't so obvious that I clicked on the link to read the story...

Just Chillin'

2005-08-08T10:07:00.000-06:00

I am one of those people who loves to sleep in a cold room. I'd rather sleep in a room where I have snotsicles frozen in my nose and five blankets on top of me than in a room where all you need is a sheet to stay warm.

I picked it myself...

Anyways, after years of sleeping in a room that just wasn't cold enough, I was finally able to convince Mrs. Humble that we needed an air conditioner for the bedroom. After a few disappointing searches at Costco and Wal Mart, we finally found our jewel in the rough: the sub-$100 air conditioner.

Oh, the range of emotions I experienced thereafter...

I giggled like a little schoolgirl as I brought this wonderous A/C unit up to the till.
I raced home and up the stairs with excitement as I prepared to install my new sensational A/C unit.
I cocked my confused head as I realized that the instructions for my still somewhat excellent A/C unit didn't apply to my type of window.
I frustratingly laboured to build a trailer-trash plywood frame to house my suddenly-flawed A/C unit.
I winced as I heard how loud my increasingly substandard A/C unit ran, but took comfort in the fact that it would only have to run for an hour or two before we went to bed to keep the room cold all night.
I cursed with annoyance at my wretched A/C unit when I woke up at 1:30am in the hottest, stuffiest room in Edmonton. Running it for another half-hour does more to wake me up than cool the room down.
Having gotten hardly any sleep, I spitefully (and tiredly) packed up my piece of shit A/C unit to send it back to the hell from whence it came.

So, once again, Mrs. Humble and I are resorting to natural air conditioning (aka Leaving the window open) to cool the house down. I guess it's not so bad...snotsicles are kinda gross after all...

Houses, Grasshoppers, And The Importance Of Feeling Useful

2005-08-04T08:55:00.000-06:00

Sure, it's been a couple of days since the weekend, but I promised that I'd post about it. Besides, I would have posted this yesterday, but my computer was fubar'd for reasons unknown.

My in-laws are building a new house on a acreage a few kilometers out from my hometown of Whitecourt. Unbeknowsnt to me but knownst to my wife, we had promised to spend our long weekend helping them with some of the construction. I was a bit disappointed, but considering my father-in-law has helped us with a ton of our projects, it really was the least we could do.

When we get out to the acreage, the first thing we notice are the grasshoppers. They're everywhere. Millions of the little fuckers are hopping all over the site. Some of them are even committing suicide by jumping right into the windshield as we drove up. Luckily, my dog Bear knew just what to do.

As for the actual work, it wasn't too bad. The only real problem was that there were too many chiefs and not enough indians, if you know what I mean. I spent the majority of my weekend standing around because my father-in-law was too busy to tell me what he needed done. Kinda funny, huh? And every time I tried to help him with whatever he was doing, he'd say "Don't worry, I've got it".

Boy, did I feel important! How useful was I?

About as useful as a condom at a lesbian convention.
About as useful as a vote for the Green Party.
About as useful as the National Gun Registry (Way to put a dent in violent crime! I sure don't see any of that anymore! That's $2 Billion well spent! Thank you, Exceedingly Expensive National Gun Registry, for making the streets safe again! )

Well, at least Bear was still having a good time.

Getting Caught Up...Sorta...

2005-08-02T00:10:00.000-06:00

As it has already been pointed out many times already, I have been a bit of a tardy bitch with my posting as of late. It's been a mixture of a busy work schedule, busy weekend schedule, and a noticeable lack of Iron Keith yammering for me to "update my damn blog already". That's right...I'm man enough to admit that everyone is to blame except me for not having an up-to-date blog.

So, two weekends ago was my buddy Justin's wedding, in which he was unfortunate enough to have me as a groomsman. The nice memories of the wedding, as in how lovely the ceremony was and how happy the newlyweds looked, are a bit muddy thanks to the not-so-nice memories, such as myself getting smashed at the open bar and making an ass of myself on the dance floor. Note to Brad To The Bone: Thanks for teaching Jim the "Tampon Dance" a few weeks ago. It certainly was a classy dance for him to break out at the wedding.

All of last week I spent waiting for the weekend. I had just had a really busy weekend, and my week was full of client meetings. I had one day where two meetings took up the entire day. I mean, I know that I have to be nice to you considering I want to take your money and all, but stop fucking talking already! Seriously, meetings shouldn't take that long. Romantic rendezvous, on the other hand...

Anyway, the point is that I needed another weekend to recouperate. Ah yes, a nice long weekend of rest...

...which was dashed away when my wife reminded me that we were scheduled to help her parents do construction on their house all weekend. I'll post more about this last weekend later.

Oh, and I almost forgot about the pictures from the stag party a few weeks back. I was looking over them, and there are actually very few pictures that aren't, how do you say, incriminating...
However, I decided that I could post one picture. Do you know when you drive into a new town and it has that sign as you come in that shows what services the town has? For example...

Well, in Fairmont, they have this one...

I mean, come on! That is definately a sign for a Rub n' Tug if I've ever seen one! But what the hell is that freaky thing coming off of Silky Hands' elbow? It's like she has two forearms on her left arm. Well, at least if things don't work out at the parlour, she could always join a freak show.

So there you go. A couple of weeks poorly summarized in a crudely written draft.

Meow...

2005-07-25T09:54:00.000-06:00

I meant to post this on Friday, but I was at a meeting for most of the day and was unable to get to a computer. Odd that I should actually be working when I'm at work...

Anyway, I had to pick up a business contact from the airport on Friday morning. The kicker was that we had never met before, and only really talked once on the phone together. I had no idea what he looked like. His boss told him that I looked like a short Ashton Kutcher, so there was no way he was going to find me. Basically, my plan was to find the guy who was walking around looking confused.

Once I found out which gate he would be arriving at, I took a seat by the "Oversize and/or Fragile Baggage" conveyor and waited for his plane to land. Now, normal baggage conveyors at airports look something like this:

Notice that this system goes in a loop. That way, if someone isn't there to pick up the luggage, it comes around again on the conveyor. It's important to note that it stays on the conveyor.

While not an exact picture, the "Oversize and/or Fragile Baggage" conveyor is a system like this:

Notice that this system does not go in a loop. Notice the sharp dropoff at the end of the conveyor system. Notice the lack of a pillow or other cushioning material on the floor in the dropoff area.

You're probably thinking something like I was: Well, they must have a sensor at the end or something to prevent anything from actually dropping off. Obviously, the conveyor wouldn't just keep running, dropping any potentially fragile baggage to the hard floor.

So, this cat in a carrier came onto the conveyor...

Damn Those Dirty Anagrams...

2005-07-21T11:17:00.000-06:00

I was farting around with the Internet Anagram Server today, and when I typed in "Mr Humble Guy", I got some pretty funny ones (quotes and commas added by Mr Humble Guy for emphasis):

Hug My Lumber

Bulgy Hummer

Lube My "Mr Hug"

My Lug, Her Bum

Staggity Staggity Staggity...

2005-07-19T11:18:00.000-06:00

I've been sorting through the memories of my buddy Justin's stag party this past weekend, trying to figure out which stuff I can write here and which stuff has to die with me. I've summarized what I'm allowed to tell you:

We had a pony keg of beer (30L), a 12-pack of beer (strictly for golfing), and a texas mickey of rye (3L) that was supposed to last us six guys for the weekend...

On Saturday night, we had to buy four jugs of beer at the bar because we ran out of booze.

Our cabin was located right on the third hole of the local golf course. We must have sneaked on and played that hole fifty times over the weekend...over half of those times when it was completely dark...and we were stumbling drunk...

During our golf games, we had the "dink-out" rule in effect. If you ever failed to get your drive past the woman's tee off box, you had to "D.O." (If you still don't get it, just think about it for a sec...)

Take a guess as to who had to pull his "One-Inch Wonder" out...

On another note, pictures from this weekend should be coming soon...and no, there are no "D.O." shots...

Hehe, you said "PEE"...

2005-07-14T09:18:00.000-06:00

Brace yourselves, faithful readers. The following post contains immature behaviour and is brought to you by the letter "P"...

When my wife and I first started living together, I was very careful when it came to matters of the bathroom. If possible, I would wait until she was either on another floor or, idealy, out of the house. Then I would lock the bathroom door, put a towel along the bottom crack of the door, turn the fan on, turn the faucet on...anything I could think of to prevent her from hearing me pee. Hell, I would even pee on the inside edge of the bowl just above the water line just so that it wouldn't make a splashing noise.

What was it about the sound of me taking a leak that I didn't want her to hear? It's not like she didn't pee, or didn't know that I peed. Everybody pees! But for some reason, the thought of her hearing any noise that I made in the bathroom scared me. What if she wouldn't love me anymore? Damn my noisy pee!

Well, for better or worse, those days are behind me now. I've noticed that I don't even close the door anymore. Not a conscious choice...I just don't think about it. Don't get me wrong, I don't let her in the bathroom while I'm peeing. If she's putting on makeup or brushing her teeth, I'll kick her out for a minute so I can piss. However, I've recently noticed that I'm missing the most basic step that says, "Don't come in here".

Thankfully, my wife is very understanding of my "lack-of-door-closing" habit. While she doesn't exactly approve, she knows that I've just become comfortable enough around her to let down my pee guard, and the open door is a physical symbol that I am now open enough in our relationship to be free with my pee...

...um...yeah, so if you can't tell, I failed Philosophy 101.

Anyways, the point I'm trying to get at is that if you ever come to my place, an open bathroom door doesn't necessarily mean that I'm not in there. Just a fair warning...

Why do my logos always burn like that?

2005-07-08T15:53:00.000-06:00

I used to really love collecting comic books as a kid, so when big budget comic-based movies started to come out, I was right on board. With Spiderman, the Punisher, X-Men, and the Hulk being favorites when I was a kid, I was able to look past any shortcomings they had as a movie and have a good old time watching them.

However, with all these comic-to-movie transitions, I've kinda noticed a disturbing trend. Remember that movie "The Crow" with Brandon Lee? Not sure if that was a comic-based movie, but there was a scene where he lights a fire that burns into the shape of the crow.

Yeah, that was cool! That's the first time I'd ever seen something like that on a movie (not to say it WAS the first...just the first that I'd seen).

Then Daredevil copied it.

...and so did the Punisher

...and most recently, the Fantastic Four.

I could only imagine that they tried to do it in "The Hulk", but the scene with the Hulk peeing his name in fire onto the rocks might have messed up the PG-13 rating.

Man, this chlamydia just won't clear up...

Anyways, the point that I'm trying to get across is this: Marvel, it's been done already. Probably many more times than just the ones I mentioned here. So in the hundreds of movies you're planning to do in the next year, could you please try something a little different? It's getting kinda old.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for shooting the final scene in my biographical movie, "Mr Humble Guy: Better Than A Kick In The Junk". It's a big budget special effects scene where I light a fire that says "MR HUMBLE GUY" in my neighbours yard...

That's Amore!

2005-07-03T21:19:00.000-06:00

This weekend, Mrs Humble and I were privileged to be invited to a lovely wedding: that of my boss. It was being held outdoors in a beautiful garden, surrounded by ferns and flowers, and graced with wonderful weather. The dresses were beautiful, the bride was stunning, and the groom was equally dashing. Yes indeed, love was in the air.

Too bad he got the name wrong when he was saying his vows. Ouch...

Honestly, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. He said her middle name first when repeating back what the priest was dictating. But still, it's not exactly getting your new life together off on the right foot.

I suppose it's also not a good sign when the unity candle, the symbol of your new life together, goes out...

...and neither of you goes to relight it...

Now That's Convenience!

2005-06-29T14:17:00.000-06:00

Now, is it just me, or does anyone else find that unintentionally hilarious?

iDangerous

2005-06-28T09:35:00.000-06:00

Part of my everyday morning routine is to try and catch a bit of the morning news. That way, if the Earth blew up overnight, I’m not the last to know. Hey, you’ve got to keep on top of these things…

Anyways, I was dozing through most of the news until the newscaster announced, “Coming up next: Studies now show that your iPod could be hazardous to your health. The full story after the break.”

Of course, I perked up right away. I’d JUST given an iPod to my wife for her birthday! And now this thing was going to kill her! I’m the worst husband ever!

Look at it…just sitting there...plotting...

But how? How was this thing out to get me and my loved ones? What could they have just discovered now that they couldn’t have warned me before? I didn’t have to sign a waver when I purchased it. We haven’t been mean to it in the few days that we’ve had it. I started making guesses as to what terrible flaw the iPod could have.

While small and seemingly harmless, the iPod can actually spit out enough radiation to give cancer to everyone in a three mile radius

When there are finally enough iPods everywhere, the Apple Mothercomputer will send out an order to every iPod to take over the world, and our only hope relies on the one renegade rapper/cop who believed iPods were evil from the start

On Judgement Day, iPod will become self aware, and start a war with humanity. In a desperate move, it will send one of its own back in time to terminate Sarah Connor

Finally, the newscast came back on. I held my breath, as well as a hammer overtop my wife’s demon iPod. I’ll teach you to endanger my family!!!

Well, fear and paranoia soon turned to disgust and disappointment. What was the ground-breaking news?

Listening to your iPod at high volumes can cause hearing damage.

Well, thanks for the newsflash, Captain Obvious! Hey, if you thought that was good, I’ve got a couple of doozies for ya!

Kitchen knives can cut you if you’re not careful.

Drivers under the influence of alcohol are more likely to get in an accident than sober drivers.

Firearms are dangerous.

Mucho-Classy Re-enactment

2005-06-20T15:25:00.000-06:00

Okay, so here is the ultra-condensed re-enactment of my “mucho-classy” weekend.

Friday Evening

Mr Humble Guy: You know, Hon…the weather just might hold out if those clou…

(Starts pissing rain)

Mother Nature: PWN3D!!1!
Mr Humble Guy: Well, this is nothing that a little social drink can’t cure.

(scenes missing)

Early Early Early Saturday Morning

Bear (Mr Humble Guy’s puppy): I’ve had enough sleep! I want to get up!
Mr Humble Guy: nnnghhhghh…
Bear: I had a bone in here somewhere! I’m going to chew it! I like making lots of noise!
Mrs Humble: ...crap, we left his bone in his kennel with him. He’s not going to go back to sleep with that in there.
Mr Humble Guy: …nnnghghggmmm’kay…
Bear: Chewing my bone…chewing my OMFG!!!MRHUMBLEGUY!!!LEMMEOUTLEMMEOUTLEMMEOUT!!!
Mr Humble Guy: …sorry Bear, I’m just taking your bone away. Go back to sleep.
Bear: Wha…what the…huh? Ah, crap.

(Everyone goes back to sleep)

Early Saturday Afternoon

Aunt Donna: Sure, I’ll play Texas Hold’em with you guys, but I don’t really know how to play poker, so go easy on me...

(Aunt Donna wins basically every game)

Late Saturday Afternoon

Momma Humble: Well, it’s still pissing rain, so the golfing is going to be shitty and we’re going to get soaked. Who still wants to golf?
Everyone: I do.

Early-Mid Saturday Evening

Brad: Well, drinking and golfing and drinking has been fun, but Blair’s stag party is going on tonight.
Mr Humble Guy: Geez, if we don’t go into town, we’re gonna miss some serious drinking…

(Brad and Mr Humble Guy go back into town)

Late Saturday Night

(scenes missing)

Early Sunday Morning

Mr Humble Guy: Well, our camping weekend is pretty much over and all that’s left is to pack up and leave…I’m just going to take a peek outside and see if all is like I suspect...
Mother Nature: SUNSHINE!!! WARM TEMPERATURES!!!
Mr Humble Guy: Yup, that’s about right. Mother Nature, you’re such a whore.

Camptastic...

2005-06-17T16:42:00.000-06:00

I can't believe my fucking luck. My family and our extended group of friends has had a weekend of camping and golfing planned for months, and now it's going to be raining for the whole fucking time that we're there.

Well, at least my buddy Brad is going to suffer through it too, and with the amount of booze and shenanigans that these weekends usually produce, expect a "mucho-classy" weekend wrapup sometime early next week.

Mr Slippy-Fist...

2005-06-16T08:32:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had an extremely strict deadline for a project, like where you had to quickly do a bunch of work without thinking it through much in order to get it done? Where you're so rushed that you don't even have the time to look things over to make sure everything completely makes sense? Where, perhaps, if you had been able to think things through, you wouldn't have made so many obvious slip-ups?

The folks at the Edmonton Sun unfortunately had this problem the other day. Michael Jackson was declared not guilty of a bunch of SEXUALLY-RELATED crimes, and the next morning, the paper was distributed with this cover:

Now, I'm probably a little more perverted than most people, but you don't need a sick mind to laugh your ass off at that. How could they miss the obvious sexual connotation there? My only thinking is that they printed off a bunch beforehand, and if Jacko were to be judged guilty, they could just add this little bit to the bottom:

Excuse me...diaper sex?

2005-06-13T09:02:00.000-06:00

Nappy: A British word for diaper.

Shag: A slang term for engaging in sexual intercourse.

You can imagine my amusement when I came across a road sign for Shaganappi Trail on my recent trip to Calgary.

Butterfingers...

2005-06-08T11:20:00.000-06:00

Mrs. Humble and I have been rather busy as of late with some home renovation projects. This weekend, we mudded over some of the larger holes in the walls, painted the entryway and the kitchen, laid some new linoleum tiles in the entryway and the bathroom, and installed all the baseboards on the main floor. Believe it or not, this busy weekend was a nice, slow pace compared to how work has been going lately.

However, things didn’t go entirely smoothly with the home reno thanks to my butterfingers. I’m not sure what my problem was this weekend, but I couldn’t hold onto anything to save my life. A brief list of the things that I dropped this weekend:

A paint brush (full of paint)
A paint roller (again, full of paint)
A paint can lid (covered in paint, of course)
A hammer
A pry bar
A palm sander
A screwdriver (I must have dropped the same one at least five times)
Various screws
A vacuum cleaner
A wrench (luckily, my face broke its fall)
Innumerable F-Bombs
Two brown baby boys (I call them “The Twins”…I ate way too much the night before at my boss’s stag party)

Well, at least the house looks better. The entryway looks brand new, and the new baseboards really make the main floor look sharp. Overall, it was time and money well spent.

PS - For those of you who know me well and are wondering how my bathroom could be alright after “The Twins”, I assure you that my bathroom is fine. WalMart’s washroom, on the other hand…

In A Swingin' Mood...

2005-06-02T11:23:00.000-06:00

Some time ago, Pat Boone took an odd step and released a CD called "In A Metal Mood", which was a collection of cover songs. Cover songs aren't really that odd, but when you take a "metal" song and "jazzify" it...well, that's kinda odd. Not to say that nobody has done it before. There's a hilarious artist called Richard Cheese who takes all sorts of songs and sings them as a Lounge cover. For a good laugh, check out his cover of Disturbed's "Down With The Sickness".

Anyways, there is another CD with this theme coming out next week...from Paul Anka. That's right, the guy who sang "Puppy Love" and "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" back in the late 50's/early 60's is now singing "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Eye Of The Tiger". Entitled Rock Swings, Paul Anka's new CD covers rock and pop songs by Bon Jovi, Soundgarden, Michael Jackson, and a bunch of others, but all set to a swing beat.

Seriously, the jokes here are writing themselves. Come on...Paul Anka singing Soundgarden?

However, I've listened to a few clips, and while they're quite funny, I was surprised at how well done they were. I suggest you check them out.

I've got to get a new hair stylist...

2005-05-26T16:46:00.000-06:00

So it hasn't been exactly four months (it's only been two), but it's time to get my hair cut again. As I mentioned last time, I have my usual place where I go due to it being quick and cheap. I mean, how hard could it be to cut hair?

Apparently, it's hard enough. The slow stylist from last time has been replaced by one who is even slower, and can't even get a buzz cut right.

Stylist: So, how's this?
Mr Humble Guy: Is it just me, or does my hair have a big patch in the front that's an inch longer than the rest?
Stylist: No, that's how it is.
Mr Humble Guy: ...Aren't you going to cut it?

To cap things off, when she's cutting this patch, she's using the scissors to take 1/16" at a time, and all these little bits of hair are sticking to my face. No problem, says I, because she'll wipe it off soon...

More hair on my face. She'll wipe it off soon...

5 minutes later. Even more hair sticking to my face. Still hasn't wiped it off.

10 minutes later (she was honestly this slow). Finishes cutting my hair. My face looks like fucking Chewbacca.

Stylist: So, how does that look now?
Mr Humble Guy: EHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Jasper silliness...

2005-05-25T08:02:00.000-06:00

I took last Friday off so Mrs Humble and I could have an extra long weekend in Jasper. She had rented a B&B just outside of the park, so we were pretty excited about doing some hiking and sightseeing and whatnot.

Long story short: the B&B was wonderful, scenery was beautiful, blah blah blah. Onto the funny stuff...

As we often do when we're driving through Jasper, we saw a lot of wildlife. Here was one exchange we had during one such encounter:

Mr Humble Guy: Look, a doe.
Mrs Humble: A deer.
Mr Humble Guy: ...a female deer...
Mrs Humble: ...
Mr Humble Guy: ...

Mr Humble Guy and Mrs Humble spontaneously break into song...

Later on, when driving through Hinton in search of a decent place to eat, we happened upon a place called Vic's. The large sign out front advertised:

Steak...

Mr Humble Guy: Mmm...

...Pasta...

Mr Humble Guy: Mmm Mmm...

...and Curry...

Mr Humble Guy: ...Huh?

Now I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a very worldly-cultured guy, but that combination just seems odd to me. You just don't see those words together that often, especially around where I grew up. Maybe if I liked curry more...

So on our way home, we had to pass through Edson. After a few days of stopping at nearly every campsite we could find to check out the hiking trails, my eyes had been trained to catch every sign for a campsite even as we drove home. We were a few minutes east of Edson when I saw a campsite sign, and I had a good laugh when I found out the campsite was named "East Of Edson".

I'm going out on a limb here, but I kinda get the feeling that they didn't think too hard about naming their campground. Now maybe I'm wrong. It does have a name that makes you want to stay there, doesn't it? Why would you stay at a "Mountain Stream" or "Douglas Fir Cove" when you could stay at "East of Edson"? Or maybe they got tired of giving people directions? I could just imagine how often this joke gets told...

Potential Camper: So, whereabouts are you guys located?
East Of Edson: Just East of Edson. Hehehe!

Hehehe...I want to bash my head in with a hammer just thinking about it.

Flushy flushy...

2005-05-17T11:13:00.000-06:00

My buddy Iron Keith and I were having a Messenger conversation today when he brought me up to speed on the "Flushing The Quran" story. Apparently, there was a news item about interrogators at Guantanamo Bay trying to get terror suspects to talk by "desecrating the holy book of Islam" ie. Flushing it down the toilet. It seems now that the whole story is bullshit.

Well, duh! What toilet in the world can flush a Bible? I have a hard enough time trying to flush my poo down the toilet! Mind you, there are times that I've taken a Bible-sized poo before, and I make a point of ending those off with a "Thank God!" (which is repeated if it actually flushes).

If they actually had toilets with that much flushing power, shouldn't we be worried about losing some of the smaller soldiers? Can you imagine the letter that would have to be sent to the parents?

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, we regret to inform you that your son is currently making his way through the Guananamo Bay sewer system. He fought a valiant fight, and died bravely. In his honour, he was given a 21 flush salute."

As well, if a toilet were big enough and powerful enough to flush a Quran, wouldn't the company advertise that fact?

Introducing: The Freedom Flush! Large enough to flush the Quran! Powerful enough to flush the French! Made entirely from the finest Chinese porcelain, the Freedom Flush features a limited edition Mission: Accomplished paint job for you to take pride in while you do your business, and also plays "The Star Spangled Banner" when you're done! The Freedom Flush: Flushing Terrorism Since 2005!

Thanks Iron Keith for the collaborative effort.

Read this, you epididymis...

2005-05-16T11:21:00.000-06:00

Last week, I referred to a website called Commercials I Hate. Well, today, I'd like to make my own contribution. Have you seen this new commercial for Coke with Lime? It alters the lyrics to the Harry Nilsson song "Coconut" to say, "You put the Lime in the Coke, you nut..."

"Nut" is an odd word to use, isn't it? I know that they used it to make it similar to the original song, but I can't really think of a positive connotation to calling someone a "nut". Since I'm pretty sure they're not trying to call me a hexagonal piece of metal hardware, I've deduced that they're either trying to make an assumption of my mental instability or they are calling me a slang term for a testicle. Either way, I don't think it's a great selling feature. I seem to recall a prediction by Conan O'Brien in his, "In the Year 2000" skit, that said something along the lines of, "Coke and Pepsi will merge to form a company so powerful, and so conceited, that they'll name their product, 'Drink This, You Sucky Loserface' "

Seriously, labelling someone a human reproductive organ, slang or no slang, doesn't usually yield a favorable response. Here are some examples:

Hey Cunt! Pass the salad!

What time is it, Cock?

You left your keys in your car, you Vas Deferens.

Love Is...

2005-05-13T16:52:00.000-06:00

Again, for those who share my sense of humor, check this site out.

Chocolately Shatner...

2005-05-13T00:01:00.000-06:00

Killing some time this morning, I stumbled across a site called Commercials I Hate. Some were funny, even though a lot were just, "This is an unrealistic situation, therefore it is stupid". However, I finally scrolled to this one about chocolate bars:

My current loathesome commercial is still any ad for a chocolate bar where they show this "naked" candy bar penis plunging into a wet chocolate vagina. It's so disturbing I can't even tell you.

I laughed for about 5 minutes straight...

Garbage Sales and the Court...

2005-05-10T15:32:00.000-06:00

It was Spring Cleanup time in the Humble household this past week, and there was a lot of crap that we had to get rid of. We had so much junk that we needed to dispose of that we could hardly fit it all in the car. With a vehicle filled to capacity with useless trash, there is only one place to go...

Of course, I'm talking about my hometown's annual Charity Garage Sale. Those of you who thought I was taking it to the dump have obviously never seen what stupid stuff people will buy from a garage sale. I swear you could sell a toothbrush at a garage sale if you waited long enough.

Anyways, we stuff all of our junk in the car and head on our way to my hometown of Whitecourt, Alberta. Whitecourt is growing all the time, which is really nice to see, but every once in awhile I'm reminded of what a redneck place it can be. This brings me to the real reason why I'm writing today.

The Charity Garage Sale was taking place at one of the elementary schools in town. The highest grade taught at this school was Grade 3. As we pulled into the parking lot, my eyes caught a pair of signs that each said, "This stall is reserved for students, 8:00am - 4:30pm, Mon-Fri".

I don't know about you, but I wouldn't think that eight or nine year old kids would need their own parking spaces. It kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it? Are kids riding their Power Wheels to school? Or if they're older, how could someone afford a vehicle if they couldn't even make it past the third grade? I know that a lot of jobs can be mindless at times, but I think most of them require at least a third grade education. Also, is parking that much in demand? For a school where the highest grade taught is Grade 3, you would think that having even one designated student parking stall would be more than sufficient.

It's little things like this that really make me proud of my hometown.

Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V...

2005-05-03T16:56:00.000-06:00

I love movies, but I'm starting to get annoyed with them. To me, it seems that the majority of movies are just copying off of each other. Mrs Humble and I rented six movies on the weekend, watched five of them, and they all had the same idea: a plot with a bunch of holes, filled with untapped potential, and a disappointing ending. I mean, it's like paying for half of a handjob. Sure, you have a decent enough time while it's going, but when it's over, you're left frustrated and upset that you spent money for the experience.

Seriously, screenplay writers, if you're going to copy from other movies, take the good stuff. Just because Blade 3 didn't make any sense doesn't mean you have to go that route with your movie. Or better yet, don't copy at all. Be bold and original! Take a giant leap with some crazy ideas, like having decent dialogue! Maybe even have character development! And here's a novel idea: if you introduce a story line, why don't you finish it! It may sound crazy for a movie to actually finish a story line, but it just might work!

Civic Abomination

2005-04-29T09:34:00.000-06:00

Man, I hate Civics. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they're fine cars and all, but I personally can't stand them. It's the image that they try to convey: "We're hip! We're with it! We're down with that shit!" This is made even worse by the fact that Civic's are now being associated with gangs, thugs, and other ne'er do wells. Who would have thought that? "Yo, Big K! We gonna roll down past that trippah Shashy's crib and bust some caps...but I want to get good fuel milage, so let's take my Japanese import, m'kay?"

To cap things off, I saw a Civic "Street Edition" in the parking lot yesterday. It had a "Street Edition" decal on it to obviously distinguish it from the "Monster Truck Off-Road Edition". I mean, seriously: "Street Edition"? That's retarded. The people who thought of it are retarded. There are a bunch of retarded CEO's in an office full of retarded peons spitting out retarded ideas like "Street Edition" every day. Every day is "Fucking Retard Convention Day" at that office.

Anyways, I've come up with some suggestions for a few new special editions:

Civic: Free From Terror Edition

Civic: Oscar Meyer Weiner Edition

Civic: Where It Belongs Edition

Worst...Tagline...Ever...

2005-04-20T11:20:00.000-06:00

I was driving home for lunch yesterday when I passed what looked to be a large green dumptruck, and I couldn't help but notice what this paper recycling company had for a slogan. It was such a stupid tagline that I had to do a double-take because I couldn't believe it. Such a stupid tagline that I forgot what the company was called. Luckily, thanks to my buddy Iron Keith, I found the company name and have the proof that I need.

View Exhibit A (note that the company name has been removed, since Mr Humble doesn't feel like getting sued by said company with the worst tagline ever).

Exhibit B, the circled area blown up

I know that it's low quality, so if you can't read it, the tagline says, "We Pay Cash". That's the tagline for the company. That's the stupidest thing I've heard so far this year. A tagline should say something that appeals to your target customers while still maintaining some dignity. For example, the tagline for Mr Lube: Doing it right. Before Your Eyes®. It implies that when you go to Mr Lube, they'll perform the service on your vehicle at a brisk pace. There is a difference between that and "Mr Lube: We Change The Oil In Your Car". Sure, they both have a message, only the first one doesn't beat you over the head with it.

Besides, even if the company wants to be blunt, it's passing along the wrong message. This company recycles paper...it doesn't pick up prostitutes.

Rockin' Radio...

2005-04-12T20:01:00.000-06:00

Every time I get into my car, I'm reminded why I don't listen to the radio. There actually was a long period of time where I was riding upon the Popular Music train, and radio wasn't half bad. But soon, I'd just had enough and jumped off, leaving radio to continue on its merry way. Now really, this shouldn't be a problem, since there should be a radio station for every genre of every era. My problem is that I like music that doesn't suck. There is music that sucks in ever genre of every era, and radio loves to play it.

The local rock station should be the station to listen to, since rock is the shit. Well, some rock is the shit. Actually, a lot of rock is just shit. We've seemed to move past the whole TheoryOfAPuddleStaindNickelCreed brand of rock and moved on to the PowerPopPosingAsRock style. Sum 41 anyone? Don't fool yourself, it's short of "Can You Count Sum 41 Different Ways We Suck Cock?". And to make it worse, those diverse cock suckers misspelled "some". The local rock station has a commercial running now that says "It's been six years...that's a long time to wait for Green Day". And I say, "Not long enough. Why can't these fuckers take the Kurt Cobain approach?"

And to make things worse, this station has the longest commercial breaks imaginable, made even longer by the stations own friggin' long promotional commercials. "You're listening (listening...listening....)...to Edmonton's best Rock (Rock...Rock...)...Playing the classic rock you love (love...love...)...and the new rock you need (need...need...)...Edmonton's Best Rock (Rock...Rock...)...One-hundred point three (three...three...)...The Bear (Bear...Bear...) ROAR!!!!"

Well, while I was listening (listening...listening...)...to this shit in my car (car...car...)...I already fucking got to where I was going (going...going)...so go fuck yourself (yourself...yourself...).

Pretty sad considering this is probably the best station in Edmonton.

Updates soon...I promise...

2005-04-11T11:59:00.000-06:00

I know that it's been awhile since I've updated, but I promise that I'll get back to my regular schedule of insults and mockery soon. I have a major project just about out the door, and it's been sucking up all of my blogging time (not to mention home time, weekend time, Mrs Humble time).

So just keep your pants on. I'm just about done.

Dead Man Dying...

2005-04-05T14:53:00.000-06:00

Long story short, I worked a 22 hour shift last night...and I still showed up to work on time this morning.

Fin.

New Links...

2005-03-31T08:28:00.000-07:00

Like a few of my friends, I haven't had a lot to post on the ol' blog in the last few days. I still don't really have anything interesting to add, but I thought that I would point out that I added a few new links.

When I'm bored at work, I usually check out the blogs of my friends. When that's done, then I usually check out my own blog to see if anything has changed. Yes, it sounds stupid, and in fact it is stupid, but I do it anyway. Then I throw up the Hail Mary: I click the "Next Blog" button. If you ever click the "Next Blog" button on the top right, you're almost guarunteed to get someones boring account of how they saw a butterfly the other day and it made them contemplate life. And to those people, I say, "Go fuck yourself. You're not entertaining. Why would anyone bother to read this junk?"

Mind you, they always seem to have more visitors then I do...

However, once in awhile I come across a blog that is different than the rest. One where the author makes snarky comments and witty observations, and actually makes me want to read more. These are blogs done by people who I think share my...different...sense of humour, which is why I'm sharing them with the people who come to my site.

Wirthy: He registered mydrunkthoughts.com...you know it's got to be good.
You Can't Make It Up: Michelle always seems to have something clever to say. I was sold by the time I read "5 ways to Subtly Tell Your Children You Hate Them"
Terri Schiavo: Okay, this one is kinda in bad taste, but who cares? The comments that people leave are hilarious. If you find any of my stuff offensive, definately don't go here.

EDIT (9:10am): Okay, so I just found out that Terri Schiavo kicked the bucket this morning, making it in even worse taste to have the link up. Oh well, I still think that the people who find my stuff funny should check it out.

Van Damme!

2005-03-27T11:13:00.000-07:00

I was flipping through the channels this morning in the hope that there would be something on TV other than golf. Luckily, there was something else on…The Quest starring Jean Claude Van Damme. Now I’ve watched my share of Van Damme movies, mostly in my “Ninjas are cool” phase, but I hadn’t seen this one. It was either this or Kenneth Copeland’s “Thou Shalt Go To Hell/Praise the Lord Variety Hour”. I decided on Van Damme.

So while I was sitting through this terrible crapfest, I started to realize why Van Damme doesn’t make any movies anymore: every one of them is exactly the same movie. Out of all the movies of his that I’ve seen where he is the “star”, they all have the same sort of idea.

With this in mind, I decided that I could also write a Van Damme movie. Here is what I came up with:

For the title, it has to have a word that’s action-like (ie Bloodsport and Kickboxer), but you can also rein it in with something spiritual (ie Lionheart). With this in mind, I’ll call my movie Fight Church.

So, in Fight Church, we’ll start off with Van Damme as a child. He is learning some sort of martial art from his Dad (or his Brother, or his Cousin, or his Friend). This is to be his mission in life.

Sometime later in the movie, his Dad/Brother/Cousin/Friend will have to fight Big Hulking Bad Guy. Big Hulking Bad Guy will kill Dad/Brother/Cousin/Friend. Van Damme is sad. At funeral, Van Damme will swear revenge against Big Hulking Bad Guy.

Van Damme meets New Teacher, who taught Dad/Brother/Cousin/Friend their martial arts knowledge. Van Damme gets training from New Teacher, who trains Van Damme really hard. He will use this training to enter Random Tournament Of Fighting Greatness.

Van Damme makes new Male Friend. Sometime during movie, Male Friend will get hurt/killed by Big Hulking Bad Guy. Van Damme gets upset.

Everyone watches while Van Damme is about to fight Generic Cocky Bad Guy. Van Damme beats Generic Cocky Bad Guy in three hits or less.

Sometime during the movie, Van Damme gets introduced to the Only Girl In Movie. Van Damme and Only Girl In Movie will have sex sometime in the movie, and we’ll get the obligatory Van Damme Ass Shot.

At least three more fights with Generic Bad Guys. Van Damme maybe gets hit once, but shakes it off.

Big Hulking Bad Guy is also shown in at least two fights. If his opponent isn’t killed, he is at least badly maimed, and probably dies offscreen.

The final battle of the Random Tournament of Fighting Greatness is between Van Damme and Big Hulking Bad Guy. As soon as it starts, Van Damme begins to get his ass handed to him. Repeatedly. Van Damme is just about dead. Van Damme has a flashback about his Dad/Brother/Cousin/Friend, then a flashback of Male Friend, then sees Only Girl In Movie in the crowd. Van Damme gets mad, stands up, and starts to beat up Big Hulking Bad Guy. Van Damme finishes off Big Hulking Bad Guy with a spinning jump kick to win the Random Tournament of Fighting Greatness.

Fin.

If you think I’m exaggerating any of this, spend a couple of bucks and rent a Van Damme movie. You’ll find them in the video store under the section Hollywood Miscarriages.

The church of hip-hop...

2005-03-22T10:06:00.000-07:00

On the news the other day, they showed a segment about a new “hip-hop” church in Harlem. It is a church where they play hip-hop music and promote the hip-hop lifestyle in an effort to attract more young people, except they rap about God and Jebus. Sadly, I’m not making this up.

So I figured, what other unlikely churches based upon musical styles could there be? Here are a few that I came up with:

Church a la Disco – Terrible outfits and even worse hymns, but you’re not supposed to like church anyways.

Church of Cock Rock – If church is supposed to start at 9:00, the main preacher won’t come out until at least 11:00. He is preceded by either an “up and coming” preacher or an “old and busted” preacher trying to relive his glory days. Some of the hardcore congregates pass the time by doing hits of the bible. “Hey man, wanna do a hit of some Psalm 23?” When the main preacher finally does come out, he’s shouting, “Are you ready to rock and roll...the devil out of your life?!?” Cue fireworks. Highlight of the service is the cameraman catching all the female congregates flashing their crosses on the big screen.

Grunge Church – This church will be short lived as the poster boy for the Grunge church realizes his sermon is preaching nothing but the crappiest bunch of crap that ever crapped, and he’ll blow his head off with a shotgun while on a holy water-induced high. Nobody will care.

Michael Jackson Church – A church where bad little boys get molested. Obviously, that would never stand...

Feel free to post your own unlikely church in the comments.

A fantastic hair cutting experience...

2005-03-18T10:15:00.000-07:00

When you go months between haircuts, your hair tends to get a bit shaggy at times. I try to make the most of my haircut by changing the way that I style my hair depending on how long it's been since my last cut. When it's really short, I comb it all forward and mess it up in the front. When it gets a bit longer, I comb it back and let it fall a bit to the sides. Finally, when that doesn't work anymore, I just stop combing it all together. If I didn't have such a pretty face, I'd look downright bum-like at this stage.

So I decided to get my hair cut yesterday during my lunch hour. I have my usual place that I go to because they're cheap and there's not usually a line up. Regardless, I leave a few minutes early to get there before any possible lunch hour rush. Sure enough, when I arrive, there is only one person getting their hair cut, so they sit me down right away.

My stylist also happens to be the manager. I'm thinking that this is great, since she's obviously been doing this for a long time if she's the manager. She's probably really fast and talented, and her excellence in her field is why she's now in a top position. That means I'm in for a fantastic hair cutting experience.

Yes, I actually thought this. And it's thoughts like these that usually go horribly wrong and end up as blog posts...

She was slow. Very slow. So slow that I didn't want to talk to her for fear of slowing her down more. So slow that I was worried my hair would have grown out again by the time she was finished.

Also, she claimed that she wasn't racist, but she kept making racist comments. A few examples:

Stylist: So my son is in a basketball tournament for college. They have teams from all over North America playing at this tournament. And I'll tell ya, there's only one black person on the Grant MacEwan team, but when I walked into the gym and saw all of the players on the other teams, I was like, "Geez, are the lights out?" Everyone was black!
________________________________________________________

Stylist: I heard that if you adopt a Native baby, there are a bunch of legal hoops that you have to jump through...it's like your duty to teach them about their culture. That's why I couldn't ever adopt a black or a brown baby. I wouldn't know what to teach them about their culture! I don't know anything about Africa or where they came from! Do you think if you adopt a German baby, you have to teach them about Hitler? The country is nothing but a bunch of terrorists.

Wow.

To make things worse, she didn't brush me off when she was done, or even style my hair for that matter. I had to run home and vacuum myself off because I was covered in hair clippings, then use my own styling gel to make my hair look good. I was not impressed. Good thing I don't have to go back for another four months.

Reality Television vs Kick To The Junk

2005-03-16T16:31:00.000-07:00

Just so you know, there are not a lot of things in life that I hate. When it comes down to it, most things don't really bug me that much. I'm not a bitter little man. However, like everyone, I do have a few things that I simply can't stand. One of those things is Reality Television. Thanks to one Mark Burnett, my once beloved TV is now filled with "unscripted television", and this fucker laughs his way to the bank every day. I can honestly say that I hope some takes an "unscripted" shit in his coffee.

And because I'm a guy, I also hate kicks to the junk. Nothing ruins your week like a boot to the business.

But what happens when you match these terrible events against each other? Who would really be victorious. I've pitted five current reality television shows against five viscious nad kicks, and decided which one I would rather have...

Round 1

American Idol: OOOOOHHH!!! I can hardly wait to find out who the next piece of manufactured shit who'll cram up radio with their "edgy" blend of suck-pop and ass-pop is going to be! Excuse me while I go get a lobotomy so I can cheer along!

Winner: Kick To The Junk

Round 2

Survivor: This stupid show keeps getting excellent ratings, and it baffles me. Mostly because I've never watched it, and I refuse to ever watch it. Has anyone ever died on this show? No? Well then they're all survivors, aren't they? Notice the 's'...it denotes a plural in this case. Actually, while we're talking about re-naming the show, it should called, "Mark Burnett Rapes Televison". The least he could do is make Survivor: Pearl Necklace, where 15 girls try to make it in the porn business but all end up on the set of a snuff film. In place of Survivor's time slot, they should make a show out of a bunch of clips from the movie Gladiator where everyone is dying, then overdub Russell Crowe's voice screaming out "Survivor!" amidst piles of dead bodies. Until that happens...

Winner: Kick To The Junk

Round 3

The Contender: Let's get this straight everyone...Sylvester Stallone is not a boxer. He played a boxer on a bunch of terrible movies. I'm still waiting for sequels to Cliffhanger, Demolition Man, and Judge Dredd...they're not going to happen while he's trying to coach boxing.

Winner: Kick To The Junk

Round 4

The Apprentice: Why would I spend an hour of my life that I'll never get back watching a bunch of kissasses kiss Donald Trump's rich, withered ass? This morning, Donald Trump was talking on the radio about how CNN is now going to start showing commercials for hard liquor. He then went on to talk about how it was a bad idea to do something just to make a lot of money. Yeah, doing things just because they make you a lot of money that you don't really need...

...don't forget to catch Donald Trump's reality show "The Apprentice" on NBC Thursday 9/8PM

Winner: Kick To The Junk

Round 5

Fear Factor: After repeated kicks to the junk, I'll probably have to get it surgically removed. And then someone on this stupid show would have to eat it. Now that's great television. Mmm...can't wait to watch someone eating my surgically-removed, repeatedly-kicked junk.

Winner: Kick To The Junk

Well, that about settles it for now. FYI: don't email me trying to explain why I should watch your favorite reality show. I'd rather take a kick to the junk than read your stupid email...

Mrs Humble doesn't sleep...

2005-03-13T13:50:00.000-07:00

I tend to wake up a few times during the night, whether it is because I get thirsty or need to take a piss. However, because I'm retarded for the first five or so minutes after I wake up, it takes me a few minutes to figure out where I am, why I'm awake, and whether I should just get up and do what I need to do or try and sleep through it.

I've noticed that when I wake up, Mrs Humble always seems to be awake too. I've tried to figure this out, like maybe my need to take a leak has somehow telepathically sent a message to her brain to wake her up and make sure I don't piss in the bed. Maybe right before I wake up, I subconsiously scream bloody murder unbeknownst to myself. I've been told that one time when I was asleep, I was acting like a dog and tried to bite her...maybe I do that every night. It would explain why my mouth tastes like my ass in the morning...

Last night, I woke up right around 2:30am. It's dark and completely silent. I haven't made a sound (to my knowledge). Remember, 2:30 in the morning:

Mr Humble Guy: I'm going to get a drink
Mrs Humble: Okay. Hurry back.

I mean, seriously...how can she be fully awake and alert? She'll deny it to the death, but I'm convinced now that she doesn't sleep. Ever. I'm thinking of testing this theory over the next couple of nights. As soon as I wake up, I'm going to ask her the first question that comes to my head. I'm guessing the results will end up like this:

Night 1 - 3:23am

Mr Humble Guy: What was the name of that show that had the guy doing that thing?
Mrs Humble: Home Improvement?
Mr Humble Guy: Yeah, that's probably it

Night 2 - 2:15am

Mr Humble Guy: Can you explain what a "Compensating Variance" is?
Mrs Humble: It's the amount you would have to compensate someone for putting in place a policy that makes them worse off in order to make them just as well off as if the policy had never been put in place.
Mr Humble Guy: ...right...

Night 3 - 4:02am

Mr Humble Guy: You're driving a bus that has 15 people on it, and at the first stop 4 people get off and 7 people get on. At the next stop, 3 people get off and 4 people times the number of people already on the bus get on. Now...
Mrs Humble: I've heard this one already. The answer is Mrs Humble
Mr Humble Guy: ...damn...

Night 4 - 1:39am

Mr Humble Guy: What is the integral of 3xy/2 + (5πa/3)²?
Mrs Humble: Are you still having troubles with calculus, honey? Just because I got a better mark than you doesn't make you any less of a husband...
Mr Humble Guy: ...feels like it sometimes...

Night 5 - 2:44am

Mr Humble Guy: Hey honey. Since we're both awake, an...
Mrs Humble: (interrupting) No
Mr Humble Guy: ...okay. Goodnight.

Zero search results...

2005-03-10T10:18:00.000-07:00

Every once in awhile, I get a bit of “on the side” website work to do with a friend of mine for a bit of extra cash. Every once in awhile, the extra cash that I make from the “on the side” work is enough to buy some nice things (like my laptop, for example). Every once in awhile, the “on the side” work that I get ends up being a blessing.

Yes, every once in awhile, I really like doing some “on the side” work. But not last night.

I had a project that was supposed to be nice and easy. A really straight-forward job. However, the client was one that was really impatient, and worse, didn’t communicate his ideas well. If I didn’t do things the way he wanted it, he’d get frustrated that “I wasn’t getting it” and threaten to get someone else. And I’d love to say that I don’t need a client like that, but the truth is that I really want to take his money.

Anyway, last night I was really close to being finished the project. All I had to do is upload the pages I created, add a single button to the home page, and this demon project would be cast from my life. Seriously, this should take maybe five minutes.

So obviously, it took much…much longer.

I’m going to try not to bore you with a bunch of technical gobbledygook, so let’s just say that things weren’t working like they were supposed to. The system was set up so that people who knew nothing about html could easily create a webpage. On it’s own, that sounds great, but it honestly becomes extremely difficult if you do know html. I had to dumb myself down to use it. Basically, there was no way for me to upload the html pages that I created. You could only create pages using this system…then copy and paste your html code into said pages. But then some of your html code doesn’t work, so you have to change some stuff, find out were certain images got uploaded to, change a bunch of your links…

And that was all just for the pages that I uploaded. Believe it or not, that was the easy part. The “adding a single button to the home page” was the real bitch. I figured out how to add the graphic (I had to upload it to a section called ‘sponsor’), but I couldn’t figure out how to link it to the pages I had created. Well, luckily for me, the system had THE MOST USELESS HELP MENU EVER. I’m pretty sure the help menu has won awards for how crappy it was. I tried navigating through the 3 or so help menus to no avail, so I thought I could try the handy search engine. Surely that would bring up something.

Okay, ‘link sponsor image’, and search…hmm, “Zero search results”.

What if I try ‘link sponsor’…”Zero search results”.

‘link picture’…”Zero search results”.

‘image target’…”Zero search results”.

‘href’…”Zero search results”.

‘sponsor’…”Zero search results”.

‘website’…”Zero search results”.

‘banana’…”Zero search results”.

‘this search sucks’…”Zero search results”.

‘Compuglobalhypermeganet’…”Zero search results”.

‘the next system to say ‘zero search results’ wants a kick to its three and a half inch floppy’…”Zero search results”.

As you can see, I was getting nowhere. And I was up much later than I wanted to be. Long gone are my days of needing no sleep. This wedding band on my finger sucked out any ability that I had to pull an all-nighter. Seriously, before marriage, I could stay up all night without a problem. Starting the day after I got married, I practically go into a coma if I’m awake past 11pm. Anyways, through a lot of trial and error, I finally got my stupid button link to work. It’s now 1:30am, and my alarm goes off at 5:30am. Time for a power snooze.

Alarm goes off…I refuse to get up.

Mrs. Humble tries to gently get me up…I refuse.

Mrs Humble: Come on. You’re going to be late.
Mr Humble Guy: …you know, if we’re both awake an…
Mrs Humble: (interrupting) No.
Mr Humble Guy: Alright, I’m getting up.

So I haven’t yet heard back from the client, but hopefully that’s the end of it. I really hope that’s the end of it...

End of the voice recorder?

2005-03-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

I never started this blog with the intention of getting my friends in trouble for the things they say...it's just a humourous side effect.

I went to visit Justin and Ryan at Sunday Night music trivia last night, and we started joking around like we usually do. However, after one particularly nasty joke, we came upon the topic of my blog. Justin began to tell me about a rather short conversation he had earlier with his fiancee Kealy. It's not word-for-word, but the basic idea of the conversation was this:

Kealy: (gives "I'm not impressed" look)
Justin: Hey hon, what's up?
Kealy: I was just reading (Mr Humble Guy's) blog...
Justin: (feigning innocence) ...oh?
Kealy: ...green slurpee shit?
Justin: ...
Kealy: ...
Justin: (Scooby Doo Villan Impression) And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for that damn Mr Humble Guy, and his little voice recorder!

I guess that probably means the end of the voice recorder. While it was great fun, obviously nobody wants to get in trouble, so I'm predicting conversations like this for the next while:

Mr Humble Guy: So, what did you guys do last weekend?
Ryan: ...
Justin: ...
Brad: ...
Jim: ...
Mr Humble Guy: C'mon, guys! I'll get you started...have you ever taken a shit so big that you swore it was coming out sideways? Huh?
Justin: ...
Brad: ...
Jim: ...
Ryan: ...
Justin: ...the only time Kealy talks to me is when she's criticizing me for talking about a "green slurpee shit"...

I guess that it's probably for the best that I don't mention the Chocolate Puffed Wheat squares bit, then.

Learned a new insult...

2005-03-04T16:58:00.000-07:00

On the street that I make my daily commute to and from work, there is an area right close to my house where the four lanes turn into two lanes. It happens shortly after a set of lights. Basically, if you're in the right lane, you're going to have to haul ass off the line in order to not get stuck. A lot of people have become trapped here once or twice in their lives by commuters who don't want to let anyone in their lane, so generally, most people get in the left lane at the lights. This usually means there is 10 cars in the left lane and maybe 1 car in the right.

I'm usually the guy on the right, because I know how to haul ass. Actually, what I do is size up my competition. I check out the vehicle or two that is in front, and decide how I'm going to get in the left lane. Young shithead in a Civic? Probably going to race off the line, so I ease my way into second place. If it's a minivan, they are 100% guarunteed to go slow off the start. I don't care who is driving: if you're in a minivan at the lights, you are inevitably going to turn around and yell at your bratty kids just as the light turns green. Plus, it's a minivan. Like I'm going to let a minivan beat me off the line. With most cases, I just tromp on the gas as soon as the opposite light turns red and away I go.

So at lunch time, I'm approaching the lights, and sure enough there's a line of cars in the left lane. Of course, I take the right lane. My opponent off the line is an older fellow who has a handicap sticker on the windshield. This is going to be a piece of cake.

Light turns green, and I go.

Right away, I try to get into the left lane, but the other car is just behind and beside me. So I accelerate some more. So does he. I'm running out of lane, so I keep speeding up...as does the old man. We're going about 67 kmph in a 50 zone at this point.

Mr Humble Guy: Holy shit...this 'capper doesn't want to let me in!

Wait a minute...did I just call this guy a 'capper? First of all, I'm not even sure where I heard that. They didn't teach me that in school. Second, that's a rather disrespectful thing to call someone. If I was going to call him anything, I should have called him an asshole for purposely trying to not let me in.

So anyways, back to my story. I gave the whole, "Fuck this shit" expression and blew the doors off that asshole 'capper. I was going to end with something like, "I hope they have a wheelchair ramp to the losers circle", but that would just be mean...

Ravenous little bugger...

2005-03-04T10:39:00.000-07:00

If you're ever around me for any length of time, you'd soon figure out that my eating habits aren't quite...normal. When a sub-150lb guy eats like he's 250lbs, you've got to wonder where it all goes. I usually just tell people that I'm feeding my tapeworm, and he's a ravenous little bugger.

Anyway, we have a pretty open office space at work. Pretty much anyone can see anyone else at any given time. This has caused my "surf pron @ work" habit to take a hit, but it forces me to get stuff done, which is good. However, it also means that whenever I'm eating something (which is often), everyone can see me. Just a few minutes ago, I had this exchange with a co-worker:

Susanne: Everytime you eat, you make me hungry
Mr Humble Guy: You must be hungry a lot...
Susanne: I am. I should bring more food but that would be bad...then I'd eat it. Heaven forbid.
Mr Humble Guy: (sarcastically) Yeah, eating food would be a tragedy
Susanne: It would be a tragedy for my ass...

Oh yeah, it's definately Friday...

My Brother: The Computer Genius

2005-03-02T15:36:00.000-07:00

My main computer at home has been fubar'd since shortly after Christmas. Now, I'm not a moron when it comes to computers, but I was pretty sure that this problem was completely out of my hands. In fact, I was convinced that I pretty much needed a new one of everything for my computer to be working again.

My brother, who has computer skills the likes of which I will never understand, believed quite the opposite. He was sure that it was something simple, and that he would be able to fix it. Being that I'm always right and my meager computer skills are obviously enough to diagnose the state of health of my computer, I let him believe his little fantasy that he can fix my demon machine with mere mortal tools. So he takes my computer back with him to his place while I secretly plan on buying a ton of computer parts.

Just a few minutes ago, my brother came on Messenger with some news. The conversation went basically like this:

Dan: So I'm on your computer now
Mr Humble Guy: Really? That's great! How'd you fix it?
Dan: Popped the battery out and put it back in
Mr Humble Guy: ...you're teasing, right?
Dan: No, it clears the CMOS settings
Mr Humble Guy: ...you've got to be shitting me...
Dan: No, I'm not
Mr Humble Guy: ...fuck...

Of course, I never doubted him for a second. I knew he could fix it.

More quotes from Sunday Night Music Trivia...

2005-03-01T08:32:00.000-07:00

I have to point out that there were more gems than just the ones that I put here, but it was getting pretty noisy in the bar, and with everyone having different conversations, it was hard to catch everything. Also, the voice recorder was closer to my side of the table, so I missed lots of banter between Jim and Adam (sorry guys). However, I did get a few good ones:

(when talking about TV)

Jim: They had Cliffhanger on today
Mr Humble Guy: Lemme guess..TBS?
Jim: Yeah!
Mr Humble Guy: TBS...The Cliffhanger Station
Jim: And Jaws...and The Running Man
Justin: (announcer voice) "Stay tuned after Cliffhanger for Cliffhanger, and tune in after Cliffhanger for Jaws..."
Jim: (announcer voice) "...and The Running Man later tonight"
Justin: (announcer voice) "We interrupt this presentation of Jaws to bring you Cliffhanger..."
Jim: (announcer voice) "Followed by Demolition Man"

(when talking about Ace Ventura - Pet Detective)

Justin: You know, I've just thought of the best porno name - Ass Ventura, Heavy Pet Detective

(when talking about...well, gross stuff)

Justin: Have you ever taken a Green Slurpee shit in someone elses house, and then plugged it
Ryan: No. Have you?
Justin: Yeah!
Mr Humble Guy: ...wait, THAT WAS YOU?!?

(when talking about the quote by Martin Scorsese about Leonardo DiCaprio being the actor of his generation, or some shit like that)

Adam: What has he been in?
Ryan: Well, in What's Eating Gilbert Grape, he was okay. He was decent in that movie...
Adam: That was the movie with that fatass and the retard, right?

Voice Recorder Funtime...

2005-02-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

The past few times that we've got together, my friends and I have talked about bringing a voice recorder along with us to capture our ever-so-classy conversations. Usually when we have one of these conversations, alcohol is involved, so the memories of exactly what was said can sometimes get a little bit fuzzy. Anyways, Mrs Humble purchased a voice recorder for classes a year or two ago, and she rarely uses it anymore. Jackpot.

Mr Humble Guy: Honey, where is your voice recorder?
Mrs Humble: I think it's downstairs. Why do you need it?
Mr Humble Guy: I'm going to bring it with me when I go out with the guys tonight.
Mrs Humble: But why?
Mr Humble Guy: Because we usually have pretty funny conversations, and I want to record it.
Mrs Humble: ...
Mr Humble Guy: ...
Mrs Humble: ...you're a dork.

But a dork with a voice recorder...

So I bring said voice recorder to Sunday Night Music Trivia. The guys all seem pretty excited about having it, and throughout the whole night, the classiness never ceased. I've got about two hours of tape to go through, so I'll try and post that later on tonight, but here's a few gems from the start of the night:

FYI: The running joke of the night was a sexual maneuver called "Dog In The Bathtub". We read about it on one of those chain emails, and it involves sticking ones nuts into someone elses ass. It's apparently named as such because it's as hard to do as keeping a dog in the tub while you're giving it a bath.

(when talking about the voice recorder...)

Justin: Actually, I just found out the other day that my answering machine can record phone calls. It's just a button on the answering machine...you just hit it and it starts recording. Which is pretty good - I figure, like, call a 1-900 number once...get your money's worth. That's something you can take to the bank.

(when talking about my registering www.hugemotherfucker.com...)

Justin: Best $10 ever spent.
Jim: Yeah.
Justin: Now to complete the saga, you have to sell the rights to hugemotherfucker.com for a handful of magic beans.
Mr Humble Guy: And by magic beans, you mean a strangers' balls in my ass, right?
Justin: A smoker and a reach around...
Mr Humble Guy: Hehe, alllllright
Justin: ...what I'm trying to say is I'm interested in buying a domain name off of you.

For better or worse, more to come later on.

A perfectly good idea...

2005-02-28T08:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, remember when I was talking about not getting enough sleep lately, and how certain ideas that were obviously bad were starting to sound like good ideas. Well, I'm glad that's over with.

On a completely unrelated note, I took the plunge and registered www.hugemotherfucker.com, and it's currently redirecting to this blog. Best $10 I've ever spent...

Getting caught up...

2005-02-24T22:10:00.000-07:00

Once again, I'm back from a week-long hiatus. Believe it or not, there really hasn't been a lot for me to post on the ol' blog this past week. It would have just been a bunch of posts saying how I worked my ass off at work, came home, ate, duct-taped my ass back on, and gone to bed. There ya go. You're all caught up in the goings-on of Mr Humble Guy.

The reason that I've been working so much lately is because of the website that I've been referring to in my blog. It finally got launched earlier this week, so I can finally (legally) let you know that I've been working on the site for Alberta Pork (www.albertapork.com). And since I was the one who put all the content in, I can also safely say that this site is one huge motherfucker. It's well over 1000 pages, which would be 950 pages larger than the next largest website that I've worked on while at Primal Tribe. By the way, I'm not sure of the legal ramifications of calling the Alberta Pork website a huge motherfucker, but considering it is one huge motherfucker, I'm going to keep calling that huge motherfucker a huge motherfucker. In fact, I'm not even going to call it the Alberta Pork site anymore. I'm just going to call it "The Huge Motherfucker". And since www.hugemotherfucker.com is still available, I'm going to see if Alberta Pork will be willing to switch to that domain name. Besides, "Pork" and "Huge Motherfucker" seem to go hand in hand, don't they? When you see a 350lb guy walking through the mall, you don't immediately think, "Wow, that guy must eat a lot of lentils". But you could play it to your advantage. Just think of the marketing campaign: "I got Porked by a Huge Motherfucker!"

Did I mention that I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately?

Anyway, now that "The Huge Motherfucker" is pretty much through, Primal Tribe is back to the "Steady-Busy" state (as opposed to the OHFUCKHOWTHEHELLAREWEEVERGOINGTOFINISHTHISSHIT busy that we were at). It's kinda nice, actually. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts, because I know that it won't.

Wednesday night drinking...

2005-02-17T11:15:00.000-07:00

Normally I don't indulge in alcoholic beverages during the week. Back in my university days when I really didn't care about my classes, I used to drink at any time of the day, regardless of what day of the week it was. But now that I'm older and work at a job that I love, senseless drinking during the week doesn't seem to have the same appeal.

Once again, because I've said this, you probably know where this story is headed.

Last night, I noticed that the local pub was advertising "Rock and Roll Trivia". Most places usually call it "Name that Tune", and when my friends and I get together, we kick ass at this game. I've never been to "Rock and Roll Trivia" at this place yet. In fact, the only time that I've ever really been there is when I had to use the facilities to take a smash, but that's another story which I probably won't get to. Anyway, I figure that if they're advertising it, it's gotta be good, so I call Justin and Ryan to come down and meet me at the pub at 8:00pm.

Fast forward to 7:55pm, and I'm late getting out the door. The pub is not even a minutes walk away, but "Name that Tune" events are usually pretty popular, and I'm worried that there won't be a seat for the three of us. So I jog to the pub, open the door, and breathe a sign of relief that there's still a table for me. Actually, every table was still available, because there was only three people in the bar including the bartender. I give my "What the fuck is this?" face, and go up to the bar.

Mr Humble Guy: Excuse me, is "Rock and Roll Trivia" on tonight?
Bartender: Maybe. We need at least four teams.
Mr Humble Guy: (looking around) ... I'm gonna take that as a no. Any drink specials on tonight?
Bartender: No, everything's full price.
Mr Humble Guy: I see. Well, I'll just take a jug of Canadian and a couple of glasses.
Bartender: We don't have Canadian.

Wow, this is really making me proud of my local pub. Oh well. Whatever. I get a jug of beer and sit down just as Justin and Ryan arrive. They're pretty bummed out about the lack of "Rock and Roll Trivia", but we make the best of it. We kicked our shoes up, had a few pints, and started one of our usual classy conversations.

Now I can't remember everything that was said, but once the conversation turned to weddings, a few gems came out:

Ryan: So, obviously on your wedding night, you're going to score...
Justin: ...multiple times...
Ryan: ...yeah, but what happens if its, you know, that time of the month?
Mr Humble Guy: Go for it anyways...it's not on your sheets...
Justin: Or just postpone the wedding. "We're sorry everyone...could you come back this time next week?"
Mr Humble Guy: And the priest would be like, "What the hell?...what's that?...time of the...oh. Folks, we're going to have to postpone this wedding..."
Justin: My plan is to actually put a bun in the oven around May. She'll be like, "Honey, I'm late". And I'll go, "Yeah, I know. Don't worry. I'll take you to the abortion clinic on our honeymoon"

Yeah, we're the definition of clASS (that's class with a capital "ass", if you didn't get it).

Valentines, schmalentines

2005-02-15T23:45:00.000-07:00

Ah, Valentines Day. The day where you can spend hundreds of dollars on your significant other and still have just an average chance of scoring by the end of the night. Average chance, you say? I like those odds!

Believe it or not, I'm usually pretty prepared when it comes to Valentines Day. Depending on my financial situation, I've either got the "expensive but nice" or "cheap but thoughtful" Valentines gift purchased at least a week ahead, dinner plans mapped out flawlessly, and my personal grooming is of an unusually-high standard. Yes, when it comes to Valentines Day, I usually kick ass.

Of course, because I pointed this out, you all know where this story is headed.

Monday morning rolls around, and I'm like, "Oh, is it really Valentines Day already. Hmph..."

5 minutes later, it starts to sink in.

"...oh shit."

Don't ask me why, but this year Valentines Day didn't really seem to mean anything until it was actually Valentines Day. I've been with Mrs. Humble for like 7 years, and I've never half-assed a Valentines Day with her once. I've always gone all-out to make her feel as loved and needed as I can, and I'm sure that this 1 day of compassion is why she puts up with my shit for the other 364 days of the year.

So my mission is clear: Pull some serious Valentines miracle out of my ass, or my marriage is over.

After work, I burn down to the mall to pick out a particular brand of perfume that Mrs. Humble tried a sample of a few weeks ago. Sure enough, there were dozens of guys on similar missions as myself. I hate living up to the stereotype of the husband who buys stuff at the last minute, but I'm surrounded by these stereotypes, so I don't feel so bad anymore. I shuffle past a poor bastard who's standing in the middle of the aisle, turning around in slow circles. He's staring at the signs hanging from the roof, and it's obvious has no clue what he's even looking for. Sorry buddy, but I'm predicting a Mission: Failure by the end of the night for you.

I get to the perfume counters, but since there are like 20 of them, I can't find the perfume right away. One of the sales ladies comes up to me to help me out.

Sales Lady: Doing some last minute Valentines shopping?
Mr Humble Guy : (annoyed) ... no, I'm just trying to get ahead of the game for next year

She doesn't think I'm very funny.

Anyway, we get down to business and find the perfume I'm looking for. It's conveniently Valentines Day priced at $An Arm for a small bottle and $A Leg for the big bottle. Well, that's what I get for being an ass and forgetting Valentines Day, I guess. You can just call me Stumpy from now on.

So I haul ass home as fast as I can in order to give myself enough time to prepare something romantic. Of course, I run into my next problem: what am I going to make for supper? I look in the fridge, and since we haven't gone shopping in weeks, the only thing there is milk. Great, now we can have cereal. I'm sure Harlequin romance novels are just filled with lines like, "The candlelight painted his face in a warm glow as Renaldo ate his Count Chocula."

I grab the last two chicken breasts out of the freezer, pop them in a ziploc bag, and dunk them in a pot of hot water to thaw out. I haven't figured out what to do with them, but I have a few minutes while they're thawing, so I'm sure I can think of something...

Eventually...

Hopefully?...

Shit, I've got nothing.

I check the chicken after a few minutes, but it still needs a bit longer to thaw. I'm still thinking about what to make when I come across my next problem: I look like ass. Seriously, I haven't shaved in almost a week. Dammit. Normally I like to take my time when I'm shaving, but I have no time to begin with, so I decide to shave like they do on the razor commercials. You know, the really long, fast strokes across the face? That'll save me some time!

So now I've got to get the bleeding to stop...

I've seriously cut myself in like 15 different places trying to shave quickly, and I haven't even stopped all the bleeding when I hear Mrs Humble open the front door. So much for my romantic surprise. I'm very disappointed in myself...and somewhat faint from loss of blood.

Surpisingly, everything ended up well. I got cleaned up, made some kind of Mexican Salsa Chicken Pasta Whatchamahaveyou, and gave her the gift which the store so kindly wrapped for me. She loves it, even though she had to act surprised. Seems that asking her:

what the perfume was called
who makes it, and
where do I buy it

all on Valentines Day is not a good way of surprising her with said perfume. Oh well. She's happy enough, so my marriage is hopefully safe for another year. Mission: Somewhat Accomplished.

"Everybody's working for the weekend..."

2005-02-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

Cue the Loverboy music. I spent the entire weekend working on my major website. You remember the one that's supposed to launch on Monday (aka today)? Now that it's launched, I can finally tell you what it is!!!

...only, I can't because the client hasn't finished getting me the content so it's not launching today. I mean, seriously, I hate doing today what can put off until tomorrow. If they would have known that they weren't going to be ready to launch until later this week, I wouldn't have busted my ass to get it finished last week. I would have done nothing last week, and waited until this week to bust my ass to get it finished.

Gee, it's about bloody time...

2005-02-09T18:49:00.000-07:00

Alright, I'm back. Kind of a funny thing to say, considering that I didn't really go anywhere, but I've been so damn busy lately that I felt like I was wasting time if I went to the bathroom to take a leak (which immediately reminds me of a line from Dumb and Dumber..."Just go, man")

So, how should I recap? Well, it's a bit late now, but suppose I should start with Saturday. One of my great friends Jim (who you'll recall from the story Tops! Selling Good Times in Liquid Form since 1954) has now moved to Calgary, and Saturday was going to be his last day in Edmonton. So of course, we had to send him off with one last hurrah with his buddies. Even Brad (from Brad to the Bone: check the links section) had came up for it. The thing is, when the whole lot of us get together, we become quite the classy bunch. We had a 15 minute conversation about how funny it would be if someone had a prosthetic wang with either a hook or pinchers on the end, and likewise, how difficult sex would be with it. Jim then proceeded to show us how you could grab someones lips with said prosthetic wang. The kicker is that we were talking about this during the supper hour at Red Robin, so we had a few "none-too-pleased" families all around us. Whatever. Obviously I don't care what these people think, and if the parents didn't want their kids hearing our conversation about prosthetic wangs, they should have went to the Brewsters that wouldn't let us in.

Also of note is the fact that Brad and I decided to skip the whole eating thing and have beer for supper. It's not so much that I wanted to get drunk...I just wanted to abuse Red Robin's "Bottomless Fries" gimmick. There were enough people getting stuff that I could just have a few fries from everyone, and whoever wanted more could get their basket of fries refilled for free. Unfortunately, by "basket of fries", I mean "twelve fries". Seriously. And it's not like these are super-huge fries and twelve fries filled the basket...they're just don't feel like putting any more in. I'm not impressed, but I don't really feel like complaining, since all that I'm going to be paying for is my 1-9th of the jugs of beer.

So after supper, we decide to get a few cigars (you know, to kill time inbetween drinks). Fortunately, a friend of my boss opened up a nice cigar shop recently that happened to be close by, so we stopped in there and picked up a few nice Montecristo's, although I'm pretty sure the guy working there thought I was going to steal something. I think I even caught a glimpse of him giving me the Robert deNiro "I've got my eyes on you" hand gesture. Being that he was a 230lb ex-bouncer and I'm a 130lb ex-nothing, I waited until I was way out of sight before I gave him a hand gesture of my own.

Back at Jim's place, we proceeded to have a few drinks, a few cigars, talk about a few Tucker Max stories, and play a bit of Xbox. Jim is constantly cheating while we're playing Halo 2 (which is what I say when he's winning), but I do pretty well. However, having learned my lesson about staying out too late (also see the Tops! story), I call it a night and return home while I'm still sober (and, as a bonus, not in the doghouse!)

Okay, so you say, "But Mr Humble Guy, that's only Saturday. Where have you been since then?". And I says Keep your fucking panties on, I'm getting to that.

Sunday: I did laundry and played Xbox at home. Wow. That's creative gold right there. You can expect my first book, "What I did on Sunday", in stores this summer.

Monday and Tuesday: Work my bloody ass off trying to meet some deadlines. I can't talk about this too much, due to the fact that it's boring, but the main idea is that I've got a major website that is set to launch this Monday, and I've got to get some designs finished for an annual report so the client can approve it. A bunch of major stuff, and none of it is done. I'm not too happy.

The thing about a 14 hour work day is that it's not too bad if you know that it's coming. Normally, I work an 8 hour day. It's a good amount of time to work...decent break times, nice lunch hour. But I knew that this week was going to be hell, and there was going to be a bunch of overtime, so I was prepared for it when it happened on Tuesday. What I wasn't prepared for was a 14 hour work day with no lunch break, no coffee break, no nothing break. I worked from 8:00am to 10:00pm getting this shit done. Let me tell you something: if my client isn't OhmygodthisissogoodthatIwanttoboneyourighthereonthetable happy with this project, I'm just going to snap.

So now it's Wednesday, and everything seems to have come around nicely. The major website is going along well, and I was able to get some sample prints of the annual report design to show my clients. If that meeting goes well, I'll be laughing. If not, well, no amount of "prosthetic wang" conversation will be able to cheer me up.

"Hello? Primal Tribe" will never sound the same again...

2005-02-04T15:51:00.000-07:00

Nicole, our beloved Sales associate, is leaving Primal Tribe today to start a new job at...somewhere else. They design dome buildings or something. I'm sure she'll do great things for the company, and wish her the best of luck in the future.

But on the plus side, it means I've reclaimed the title of "Prettiest Primal Tribe Employee". Gotta take the good with the bad...

A threesome was only a car alarm away...

2005-02-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

I'll start this story off by telling you the best part...I'm sandwiched between two of the hottest girls you could imagine, and they both want me. They want me bad. And just as I think one of them is about to whisper something sexy in my ear, she opens her mouth and goes, "AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH! AAAANNGH!".

While some nature enthusiast might point out the peculiar sound she was making was actually part of the mating ritual of the female trumpeter swan, I figure that I'm just dreaming, so I open my eyes to find out what is going wrong.

Those who know me well have probably heard that when I first wake up in the morning, I'm retarded. Seriously, all comprehension and reasoning skills take at least an extra four minutes to wake up after I do. The clock says 2:37, which is an odd time for the clock alarm to be going off. What is even odder is that we never set the clock alarm. We actually wake up to the TV. Again, because I'm retarded, it takes me a couple of minutes to figure out that it wasn't my clock alarm that was going off.

No, the source of the racket was a car alarm. Quite possibly the greatest invention of all time. No doubt that everyone in the neighbourhood was quickly rallying to defend this persons possession from some evildoer. "A car alarm?!? Going off in Edmonton?!? We must rush to this mans aid!!!"

But seriously, no one cares when a car alarm goes off anymore. Everyone takes a peek out the window to make sure it's not theirs, then they get pissed off that someone else is to blame for the terrible racket. The attitude is: If it's not mine, it's not my business.

So after about ten minutes, the alarm finally stops. I've got a few more hours of sleeping left to do, so I decide to try and get back to the peppermint twins.

Fast forward to twenty minutes later: the same damn car alarm goes off. So I stumble over to the window to see what the hell is going on, and I see this poor bastard absolutely frustrated with his vehicle. You can only imagine how embarassed this guy probably is. I feel a bit sorry for him, but that doesn't stop me from shouting obscenities.

New Site Look...

2005-02-03T17:43:00.000-07:00

There are only so many different templates that we can choose here at Blogger.com, but having said that, there are a few nice ones. However, it's always bugged me that the template that I had chose was the same template that my friend Brad had chose for his blog. So, I decided to change things up to give it a different look.

For those of you with too much time on your hands...

2005-01-31T16:17:00.000-07:00

Some of my friends have set up blogs of their own, and I definately recommend that you read them if you need a good laugh, or if you just need to kill some time, or whatever. Just go read them.

Brad To The Bone

Iron Keith

Tops! Selling Good Times in Liquid Form since 1954

2005-01-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it's a bit late to recap the gong show that was last weekend, so I'll do my best to get through Friday night as quickly and painlessly as possible.

I was invited over to a friends place for dinner on Friday. Three of my great friends, Justin, Jim, and Ryan, all live together in a house, and more importantly can stand me when I get drunk. My friends inviting me over for dinner on the weekend by my definition means that there is going to be some irresponsible drinking ahead.

So after dinner around 8:00pm, I says, "Okay, let's get shit-faced." So we go to the local Tops House of Liquor and Porn to pick out our booze for the night. For those who don't know what Tops is, it's a liquor store and a convenience store side by side, but the convenience store is loaded with an unhealthy level of porn. And not just your normal porn like Playboy or Swank. The last time we went there, they had a used copy of Pregnant and Horny. A USED COPY! Think of the mental picture you get when you hear 'used copy of porno'. Anyway, back to the liquor. I decided to go for some Silent Sam vodka, Jim picked out different vodka, and Justin chose some Dr. McGillicuddy's Fireball Whiskey, among other things. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), Ryan had to work the next morning, so he wouldn't be partaking in the night's festivities.

When the night starts out with everyone having a shot of Dr. McGillicuddy's Fireball Whiskey, you know that it's not going to end well.

For the most part, we were mixing strong White Russians, playing XBox, and having a good time. I'm drinking way too much, but the White Russians are going down really smooth, so I keep making them. Hey, like most things that get me into trouble, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

The night totally went downhill when I starting chugging my drinks.

I had just made my fourth or fifth White Russian, when Justin pulled out some juice and told me that he was going to make a Screwdriver. Here's me going, "That would be nice, but oh, what to do with this full drink I just made?" Less than 10 seconds later, Screwdriver in hand.

We haven't even gotten to my biggest mistake of the night...my conversation with my wife. Apparently, "Honey, I'm going to stay here tonight" when you're drunk sounds a lot like "Honey, I'm just going to have one more drink and then take a cab home" to someone who's sober. Needless to say, I got in a lot of trouble when I got home.

The gong show that was my night ended after I spent probably 20 minutes praying to the porcelain god, then finally crashed on the hide-a-bed that my friends thankfully pulled out for me. Time of pass out: 10:30pm. Poor show.

What I've learned this story: The next time my friends invite me over for dinner, I'm going to opt out of getting liquor at Tops, and go for the porn instead. But not a used copy of Pregnant and Horny. No, something tasteful...like a used copy of Elephant Hole.

Посмотрите Ma! Я говорю русского!

2005-01-26T11:18:00.000-07:00

So an opportunity came up recently that I couldn't pass up. You see, I like video games, movies, and pretty much anything else that keeps me from moving or thinking a lot. The problem is that sometimes this gets expensive. DVDs are right around $20, and video games can be over $60. It all adds up to a broke Mr. Humble Guy. However, a contact through work, who happens to be Ukrainian, told us that he can order movies and video games (PC, PS2, Xbox...whatever) from the Ukraine for like $2 each. And they're in English! So I'm thinking, "Probably ripped copies, but I don't care. Time to watch my ass grow!" We make a big list of movies and games that we all wanted, but we just order a few to make sure that they work.

Fast forward to me going into Best Buy and laughing at all those poor suckers standing in line to spend hundreds of dollars on movies and games. Those idiots! Everyone is stupid except me!

It takes a little over a month, but the package came in yesterday...

I started to think things might not be right when I noticed that the movies were shipped in a Ukrainian donut box...

I really thought things weren't going to turn out the way that I'd hoped when I noticed that the movies had titles like "Страх и loathing в Las Vegas" and "уравновешение"...

I knew that that I got screwed when the movie wouldn't even play in my DVD player.

I finally did get the movies to play, but I had to put them into my laptop. The menus were all in Russian, but through trial and error, I found a way to shut off the monotonous Russian overdubs, however there is NO way to get rid of the subtitles.

On the plus side, the Star Wars movie came with a funny little quirk...the cover featured a Jedi in a Storm Trooper helmet holding a lightsaber. "Используйте усилие, Luke" indeed.

Yeah, I'm an ass...

2005-01-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I had drove Mrs. Humble to the drug store so she could get some eye drops (long story short: she needed them because I'm an asshole and a terrible husband). Anyway, after she bought them and we got back to the car, she wanted to wait until we got back home to put them in.

Mr Humble Guy: Why do you want to wait? Don't your eyes hurt NOW?
Mrs. Humble: Yeah, but I need a mirror.

(LONG PAUSE)

Mr Humble Guy: If only there were some way you could SEE where you were putting the eye drops...

I'm sure you can tell why she married me...

What the hell was that?

2005-01-24T05:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I had a fairly interesting weekend, but I'll get to that in a later post. More importantly, I have to mention what happened to my dog this morning (as it was retold to me by Mrs. Humble).

I had went outside to shovel off the front walk, and my dog was getting kinda antsy, so he ran up to Mrs. Humble to let him outside. Just as he got up to her, he farted. Now, don't get me wrong, he's farted so bad before that we've had to leave the room, but this was the first time that his farts have ever made a sound! Well, he spun right around with his 'What the hell was that?' look, and immediately started barking. Then he smelled his fart, and was trying to figure out where it came from, all while continuing to bark! Seriously, try to picture a dog trying to sniff his butt and barking at the same time...

New to the whole Blogging thing...

2005-01-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

Well hello, everyone! That is, hello to the three people who I gave this URL to. This is my first attempt (and probably last, but who knows?) at the whole blogging thing. I've got far too much work to do to consistently maintain a full time blog, as well as a short attention span and general dislike of doing anything that I'm not forced to.

So, why did I create a blog, then? I don't know, really. A friend of mine is about to create one, so I was just going to create a BS one to see how it all works, then wipe my hands clean of it all and get back to surfing the web for por...traits of art...yeah, that'll do. Anyway, it just seems like it might be fun to keep posting, so I guess we'll have to see what happens.

Why Mr Humble Guy? Anyone who knows me should question this, considering I'm a blatant asshole (not Tucker Max assholish, but an asshole nonetheless). Well, back in the day, I needed an anonymous email address so I could sign up for pron newsletters, fire off offensive emails, and generally be a dick without ruining my existing email address. So I signed up for a new Hotmail email with the user name mr_humble_guy, since jackass_pervert was already taken. It's been my alias almost every time I've needed to sign up for something.

Anyways, duty calls. Check back every once in awhile to see if I actually keep up with this, or if it ends up in the basement with my weights and my "Learn Japanese Today!" books.