Helloooooooo baby…

It’s been two months since the last dispatch. It’s not that I forgot or got lazy. It’s that I didn’t have anything to say. Like most people, my life is predictable and run-of-the-mill most of the time. Not much happens that’s worth commenting on.

The most exciting thing that happened last week is that I got new beard shampoo. All the way home I was thinking “I can’t wait to have a shower and try my new beard shampoo”.

I hope that helps you understand why I don’t post more often.


Scotch is a drink. Scots are people…

My people are Scots.

My clan is Gordon.

Despite the fact that I’ve lived in Canada since I was three years old and am undeniably Canadian, I have epigenetic memories of Scotland. My grandfather traced our family tree back to the early 1500’s, and I am the first one to have grown up outside Royal Deeside. My kids are the first of our family to be born outside of the UK.

This is why whenever I need a boost, I head for YouTube and watch pipe band videos for a while.

Maybe other people don’t hear it like I do but to me it’s not dancing music. It’s fighting music, particularly if the band is playing “Scotland the Brave”. The hair on my neck stands on end every time I hear it. Bagpipes say, “You’re gonna hear us coming from miles away, and when we arrive we’re gonna thump you.” I know I’m romanticizing this. I know war is hell and fighting is bad but you have to let me have this one. Some days it’s the only thing that keeps me level.

I could go on at length about this, but I suspect you’re already typing facebook.com in your address bar. Here’s my love of pipe bands in five easily digestible points:

  1. I adore the drone note of bagpipes*1roughly halfway between B-flat and B. I often incorporate drone notes into my guitar playing, especially when I use open tunings.
  2. The crisp snap of the snare drum is aggressive but not frantic.
  3. The march is not as rigid as most military marches. It’s a little looser and it’s all in the hips. It’s more of a strut.
  4. There are yells by men at the front of the parade who have the same disorder as Mrs. Pancakes in which random thoughts shoot out of their mouths and all of them sound like “AAAAAAAARGH!”
  5. Pipe bands don’t read music like those lame marching bands with tubas and piccolos and all that. Pipe bands know their music. They did their work. You wouldn’t accept an actor going on stage with a script. So why accept musicians reading music in a parade? Memorize that shit.

I chose the following clip for you because Ballater is where my paternal grandparents lived. My gram’s last house (after gramp died) at Old Stables Courtyard is just out of frame at 1:20 where you see “A93” painted on the road. I have so many great memories of Ballater. It’s a beautiful wee town.


I think your valuation is insane. I’m out…

I’m taking a new prescription. One of the side-effects is that my farts are obnoxious and have rotten opinions. If they weren’t so hairy they’d be the Kevin O’Leary of flatulence. I guess that would make me the Donald Trump of flatulence if Donald Trump wasn’t already the Donald Trump of flatulence.


I’m Not Shitting You…

There are people who pick up their dog’s poo and then leave the plastic bag sitting on the ground instead of carrying it to the nearest bin. I see it frequently when Alice and I go exploring.

Dog poop would decompose relatively quickly if it was just left on the ground. Plastic bags don’t decompose very quickly. Why pick up something that would decompose, then wrap it in plastic that won’t decompose and leave it in the same place?

If you’re going to be a lazy prick, just leave the poop alone. That’s better for the environment.

I’ve noticed that you can carry around a plastic bag with shit in it. If you’re near a dog, you can have a bag of shit. As long as you’re with a dog, it’s like, “He’s got a bag of shit. That’s fine”. – Demetri Martin


I don’t think I’m funny anymore…

I still recognize funny but I’ve lost a step or two in my own sense of humour. It used to be effortless, but these days I find myself repeating funny stuff that other people have said rather saying my own funny things. It’s kind of a bummer.

Maybe now that I’m back at work and surrounded by a new audience*2my co-workers, the comedy synapses will start to fire again. I hope my lack of funny is a symptom rather than a condition.


Stop saying the world would be better if women were in charge…

There are TONS of shitty women too. If we think that we could change everything by exchanging men for women in all the power positions, we’re up the creek. We’ll just end up with a bunch of dicks with vaginas instead of a bunch of cunts with dicks. Remember Margaret Thatcher? Marine Le Pen? Hillary Clinton?

It’s not the gender that matters, it’s the morals and temperament and intelligence. Unfortunately, the type of person that’s wired to become a political leader is very often also the kind of person many of us do not want as political leaders. Gender is immaterial. Race is immaterial.

While we’re at it, let’s stop with ALL the broad generalizations (pun intended). They’re ridiculous.


Aye’s Book Club…

Dirty Jokes and Beer by Drew Carey

It’s worth the read just for the chapter entitled “101 Big Dick Jokes”


Haste ye back.

– Pancakes

Footnotes   [ + ]

1. roughly halfway between B-flat and B
2. my co-workers