cross-posted from lolebrity, for I am very busy today and this one has crossover potential.
imaj: raincoaster
sorse: DListed
Sandy ar playin Canuckistani refugee.
Ryan ar playin America.
Pritty reel-listic if u ax me.
Category Archives: Canada
Zombie Alert in Langley!!!
Zombies in Plain English
Did you know that zombies come from British Columbia? It’s true. It’s a fact.
It’s a well-known fact that the common-or-garden zombie is an unsophisticated creature, preferring the isolation of the countryside, farms, campsites, and small towns to the cramped confines of large metropolii. As with all species, however, urban encroachment upon their natural habitat has led to increasing pressure on the indigenous zombie population, and to increasing incidents of conflict and contact.
So it was that this past Tuesday a zombie was found wandering the semi-rural streets of Langley, a placid suburb of Greater Vancouver, a Lesser Vancouver if you will.
From the Langley Times:
WEB EXTRA: Dead man wandered from accident scene
By Natasha Jones – Langley Times – June 05, 2008
Christopher Edgar Parmiter, 37, of Surrey has been identified as the man whose body was discovered underneath a tractor-trailer unit on Industrial Avenue on Tuesday morning.
The top salesman for Chrysler in Western Canada, Parmiter may have been dead for several hours before he was found at 7:40 a.m.
According to his brother Mark Babor, Parmiter was involved in a low-speed crash involving just his car, a red 2008 Viper, in the area of Fraser Highway and the 208 Street causeway.
His car sustained only minor damage and, Babor said, an autopsy revealed no physical trauma to Parmiter’s body.
If only he had left a blog behind…we could have had some insight into his motivations. Surely, however, disorientation and brain lust must, as always, have been at the forefront. If you doubt, just realize that in life, he was the kind of man who drove a Viper. Obviously, he’d be in need of brains.
mo’ momo: so you feel like shit
See, this is why you shouldn’t mess with Canadians. Because not only did we popularize the concept of brutality in team sports (there’s no “I” in “ICU!” Oh, wait…Canadians say “I” will put “U” in intensive care, “C?”) but our motivational speakers don’t natter on about lathering your positive vibes over the pectorals of the Universe or scattering the rose petals of your dreams on the cosmic winds. They just straight-out tell you what to do when you feel like shit.
Canucks do not mess around. If we’d had momo during the War of 1812, our Foreign Minister and his biker chick would be enduring CSIS‘s interrogations from their private quarters in the White House.
Slimeballs!
cross-posted from TeenyManolo, with a bit of editing
Everything old is goo again!
(I had to; it was there)
Yes, GenX’s favorite toy (besides Pong, that is) is celebrating its thirtieth birthday this year. As with everything and everyone who turns that undeniably-adult age, its tastes have changed over time to something more…sophisticated?
Say hello to Love Slime, Hot Slime, Relax Slime (?) and Elegance Slime (????).
From TrendsInJapan via Gizmodo.
Note that the company says these fragrances are “scented to appeal to adult sensitivities” rather than scented to enhance adult activities. Like that is going to stop anyone.
Speaking of which, it appears that Mrs. Bill Murray is tired of being slimed and has filed for divorce. I guess she has no tolerance for middle-aged ennui and reinvention of self? Or she could have just asked him to wear a condom.
In related news, here’s a story about some of my colourful relatives. Expect The Sister to pop up any second to deny it…
At my cousin’s wedding they had little pots of slime at the place settings. I kid you not. In the wedding colours, too. It was floral-scented. All my now-grown and dapperly be-suited cousins spent the entire wedding dinner sticking their thumbs in the little pots to make farting noises. And people wonder why I live at the other end of the country.
Samuel L. Jackson’s past as a Junior Hockey coach
Not many non-Canadians know, but Junior Hockey is the bloodiest. Oh, there may be less blood on the ice, but there is far more in the stands and in the parking lot. My parents, for instance, who, having two figure skating daughters, had no particular interest in junior excuse me Junior Hockey, still went out to every game. And why?
Because they were fight fans, and they watched the stands.
Hockey parents are notoriously bloodthirsty. If William Wallace were building an army now, he would choose from the stands of Junior Hockey and be assured of the bloodthirstiness of his crew. And, in Samuel L. Jackson, this crowd has at last met its match in a coach that will say, “Fuck your pussy son’s bench-warming ass, I am playing Lucifer and Fang on defence and there is fuckall he or you or any creature in Creation can do about it, you motherfucking minivan-driver!”
Can I get an “Amen!”?
raincoaster 