Category Archives: Etiquette

the legend of Stamp’s Landing, with bonus legend decoder

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Stamp's Landing 

from the archives 

The Legend of Stamp’s Landing, with bonus legend decoder
Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Got this from the back of a menu at the pub. Hey, you think this kinda thing makes it into Toynbee???

The Legend of Stamp’s Landing

Stamp’s Landing was named by Captain Edward Stamp in honor[sic] of his great-grandfather who, in 1794, under the command of Lord Howe, fought in the battle of “the Glorious 1st of June” [they fought grouse from British warships off Spanish Banks? Vancouver’s history is even more colourful than I’d imagined. What kind of ordinance did the grouse use against the Brits, I wonder].

Sir William Henry Stamp, Bart [which isn’t a Simpson’s reference: it means “Baronet”] the commander of HMS Formidable [a word I can spell only by remembering the French, which sounds way cooler anyway, even just in your head] 74 guns, did engage in that battle and sustained a heavy blow to the head [ the Bart, not the Formidable]. Delirious, he jettisoned a small landing craft, boarded it and drifted into a fog bank and disappeared.

He drifted for several days at last hitting a rock shore in a small inlet now known as False Creek. He was greeted there by several friendly natives who cared for him, sustained him with food and drink, and showed him a good time. [he musta been a big spender]

After a year, he reluctantly bid farewell to that friendly place [besides, the girls were starting to “show” by now]. The natives took him into open water at what is now known as Point Atkinson. There he was picked up by a packing frigate that was patroling the area. Stamp related the story of his landing in that friendly place with beautiful women, good food and drink and warm companionship. All aboard were fascinated by the stories and the good fortune of Stamp’s Landing.

Throughout the years the name “Stamp’s Landing” has lived in legends of good fortune and navel [sic again, unless this is another sly pregnancy reference] luck. When adrift at sea, sailors would propose a toast with whatever rations they had left, “Here’s to another Stamp’s Landing!“

and now for the Secret Legend Decoder, which I got from inside mine own head. 

Secret Legend Decoder

So this dude, no doubt sent abroad for sheer uselessness, as were so many young men of the times (there’s always a surplus of useless young men; at least, there was back then, before the days of motorcycles and fatal vending machine accidents) got the shit scared out of him when he was bopped on the head with something in battle with the fearsome grouse of the Lower Mainland, and besides, he was in the wrong ocean entirely anyway. So when an opportune fog bank rolled in, he got into a wee boat, hoping to sneak away from the action unmissed.

He succeeded, landed, managed to make some friends among some unwarlike people, and spent many months making a parasitic nuisance of himself. Finally, when they’d had enough of this pasty-faced layabout, they stuck him on a boat out in the middle of traffic, where sure enough some lemolo kingchauch sailed by and went: oh look! Anudder whiteboy! Let’s fish him up! Whereupon this dude lied the pants off himself and thus became legendary.

So much easier to do when you’re the one writing the legend, eh?

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quiz: which character from the Iliad are you?

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Here is my all-time favorite mass transit story, and it’s even true!

My English professor rode the bus every day. He rode the bus in from White Rock. It took long hours.

Sorry, channelling Hemingway; it’s the English major in me.

Anyway, on the bus, he met many an interesting character, as one does. He met so many, in fact, that he eventually decided to stop meeting anyone at all, and began reading on the bus.

This was not a successful solution, for lo the world is never short of those with an opinion or two to spare on the subject of a total stranger’s taste in books (to the point where I used to use a book cover that said “I want YOU…to leave me alone”).

One day, he was reading a book, as I think I have explained was his wont, which I suppose means what he wonted to do, and the book just happened to be the Iliad (in translation; he was no showoff). Well, onto the bus lumbers and BAM! down into the seat next to him sits a huge, hulking biker of much black leather, clanking chains, and many a fierce and prison-made tattoo.

Great, thinks the mild-mannered and moderate-bodied English professor. Try to be invisible, he thinks.

He fails.

POKE goes the biker’s finger into the book.

Da Iliad! he shouts. I love dat book! Rumble in Troy, eh! Ah, it’s all women, man. All da trouble in da world: It’s always all about da fuckin’ women.

  Which Greek Warrior From The Iliad Are You?  

Agamemnon: You are the king of Mycenae…and assholery. I’m telling you, sacrificing your daughter to fuel your ambitions doesn’t win you too many friends.
Take this quiz!

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| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

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Blame Germany!

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Die! Deodorant!

Is this who’s to blame for the choking miasma that inhabits the ladies’ room at Metrotown? The brave or desperate souls who venture into the complicated tunnel system behind the Food Court (and who survive) tell tales of a horrible, synthetic, eye-biting cloud of Spring Meadow-scented vapour. We here at the ol’ raincoaster blog had always put it down to the suburban penchant for Aqua Net, Charlie, and the apparent inability of mall-goers to deposit their deposits within the toilet bowl, instead of all over the seat, the floor, and the cubicle walls.

How wrong we were.

It turns out that Germans are apparently so stinky that only crop-duster-sized doses of deodorant are effective on them. Unfortunately, they are equally effective at setting off fire alarms, as a group of blushing, sweating, but presumably Meadow-Fresh teenagers discovered.

“The fumes of the pleasant-smelling deodorant were so intense that they drifted up to the ceiling and set off a fire detector,” said Volker Buttgereit of the Buesum police force… “Hopefully the girls will get by with a little less spray next time,” said Buttgereit.

Well I for one fully support the use of aromatherapy candles in ladies’ rooms. If nothing else, the resulting explosions should singe off their underarm hair, thus reducing the need for deodorant in the first place.

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Valentine’s how-to: the nastiest prank in the world

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STD, yoMaybe not the nastiest, come to think of it, as this only applies to those with sex lives that exist in the physical world and not just the universe of slash fic.

Inspot is a truly useful, life-saving website that helps those who’ve been infected with harmful diseases inform others of their risk and encourages a pro-active and positive approach to sexual health. As such, it deserves our wholehearted support and I for one applaud it.

However.

It’s also a tool ripe for abuse; the perfect way to mindfuck someone who has it coming. We at the ol’ raincoaster blog would never encourage you to unleash this monster on an innocent party, but what about those who have it coming? Well, that’s quite another tale of mystery and imagination.

Sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) are more common than you know. In the U.S. alone, there are 15 million new cases each year. Talking to your sex partners, even virtually, helps take away the stigma associated with STDs. AND it’s scientifically proven to reduce transmission.

** Did you know that some of these STDs make it 6-10 times more likely to transmit HIV from an infected person to his or her sex partner – no matter who has the STD first?

TIPS ABOUT THE SITE

  • Notify everyone you’ve had sex with in the past six months. Oral sex counts, too.
  • Try looking through your old emails and your online address book to complete the list.
  • If you decide to compose a personal message, put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Think about how you were told—what you liked and what you didn’t—and put the best of it into words.
  • You don’t have to provide detailed medical info—this email card will automatically provide links to what they need to know.
  • You can send postcards anonymously or from your email address.

Take a damn good look at that last line and then reach out and touch mindfuck someone.

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the perfect religion!

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 Theological potholes ahead, check your shocks!

In a primarily Relativist culture, we are often faced with the difficulty of acknowledging and expressing the equality of all faiths, no matter how loopy, unproductive or just plain unfashionable they may be. This service, by the Frantics, has finally answered the great question which lies at the heart of all religions:

in an imperfect world where the message of the divine is often difficult for us to hear,
just exactly how do we completely cover our asses?

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