welcome to the panIHOPticon

The Spatula of Total Information Awareness 

Would you like some surveillance with those flapjacks? How about a side of identity theft? Can I top up your presumption of guilt before offering you what we’ve got in the way of closed curcuit television monitoring, hot off the griddle? Here’s our daily special, fresh from the Department of Homeland Insecurity.

In response to a media inquiry, a Quincy, Massachusetts International House of Pancakes has ended its somewhat over-the-top dine-and-dash prevention policy of requiring its customers to not only show, but also relinquish, their driver’s licenses while enjoying the tasty breakfasts for which the chain is renowned.

Those who would trade liberty for security of pancakes deserve neither liberty nor pancakes!

The PanIHOPticon policy was overturned when one John Russo, would-be breakfaster, refused to comply with the policy, citing fears of identity theft. Media reports quote Russo as saying,

“‘You want my license? I’m going for pancakes, I’m not buying the Hope diamond,’ and they refused to seat us…Identity theft is rampant. I wouldn’t want to give my license, with my address or Social Security number to anyone that I’m not familiar with. I’m going just for breakfast.”

There are no reports of Russo attempting to use the library, pray, or take flying lessons while at the IHOP.

Would you like a cavity search with that maple syrup?

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Vancouver’s Chinatown in winter, a vignette

Chinese chef could kick iron chef's ass! 

From Chowman on the Urban Diner Waiterforum. This will give you a bit of perspective on where I live and how immigrants adapt with creativity to our patented Canadian winters.

My favourite restaurant ice-clearing moment was at lunch today on Main Street. A cook was on his knees with a cleaver, hacking at the ice on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. After each series of several hacks, a staff member would step forward with a shovel. I love teamwork.

Ren and Stimpy Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen

This tells you pretty much everything you need to know about the Canadian national character, particularly when you realize it was written and drawn by a Canadian (shout out to John K, homeboy!). We are obviously not entirely sane, nor healthy.

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Vancouver see wall

from the archive, but it could have been written tonight for that matter.

As I slump here in front of my blue, glowing screen, coughing like Tuberculosis Mary, occasionally wiping mysterious dots of liquid off the monitor (even though they sure are purty with the little rainbows around the edges) and with, apparently, no lining left in my throat at all, I remember the good old days.Like last month.When I could still get outside and go for a skate. Sometimes I encounter something that gives me faith in civilization, and the Vancouver Seawall is one of those things. Other times I stare out at crowds and think just look at them all walking on their hind legs like that but that’s a story for another day. Like I said, the Seawall I like. Especially now that I can get to it within five minutes, three if the lights are right.One of the best things about living on the Downtown EastSide is the fine sense of proportion developed by the cops. It’s technically illegal to rollerblade down a major road, or ANY sidewalk, let alone skate down Main Street itself right past the Cop Shop and Court House with an off-leash collie trucking along the sidewalk, pacing you. Once I was spotted by a total keener of a cop who gave me a disgusted look and signaled me over to the sidewalk, no doubt to give me a thick sheaf of tickets, so I thought, as I often do, let’s see if showing off will do us any good. I skated slowly over and as I did I said to the dog, “Lady, left side,” and the dog obediently went to the left side of the sidewalk. I said, “Lady, right side,” and the dog obediently got up and went to the right side of the sidewalk. I said, “Lady, middle,” and the dog went to the middle of the sidewalk and stood there looking up at the cop with her big innocent brown eyes. I refer to the collie, you understand. The cop gave me an even more disgusted look and waved us away. Face it, your run of the mill Border Collie is probably smarter than Jamie Graham. Not to mention they have bigger fish to fry in this neighborhood.From my house you can get to Waterfront Road easily, and follow that under Canada Place till it joins up with the new part of the Seawall, between there and Stanley Park. There’s half a dead rat on the road right beside Crab Park, but it’s flat enough you can skate right over it. Or you can go the other way, onto the old Indy track and join up with the Seawall at Science World; that’s nice, because then you can go the south route to Granville Island or head to Stanley Park again from the other side, only instead of passing through pancaked, dried rats you get to go through Yaletown. I for one always enjoy the sight of mountain bikes that cost more than a year’s housing and get a cheap laugh out of Porche SUV’s, especially when used to ferry a 95 pound woman. Some jokes stay funny, you know what I’m telling you?

Once, I was skating through Yaletown by the playing fields, skiing a little bit on the downhills and getting a great bang out of the experience now that I was pretty good, feeling all Malibu Barbie in my pink flowered Pucci-style Victoria’s Secret Miracle Bikini, and I passed a couple of guys skating the other way. They turned and stared. One said to the other, “Now you see why this is better than ice skating?”

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pic o’ the day: firefly Squid

From the same NORFANZ expedition as yesterday’s very attractive Mr Blobby photo. But as always, Squid is exquisitely beautiful while comparatively speaking the other sea creatures resemble nothing so much as a bloated and lethargic 45-year-old Kevin Federline. Who needs neon when they have Firefly Squid, eh? Can’t you imagine a party at the Aquarium beside a wall tank of Squid? Ah, better than a disco ball!

Firefly Squid, yo

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