Saturday, January 03, 2004

Man Vs. GOD

There was a group of scientists and they were all sitting around discussing which one of them was going to go to God and tell Him that they didn't need him anymore.

One of the scientists volunteered and went to go tell God he was no longer needed.

The scientist says to God - "God, you know, a bunch of us have been thinking and I've come to tell you that we really don't need you anymore. I mean, we've been coming up with great theories and ideas, we've cloned sheep, and we're on the verge of cloning humans. So as you can see, we really don't need you."

God nods understandingly and says. "I see. Well, no hard feelings.
But before you go let's have a contest. What do you think?"

The scientist says, "Sure. What kind of contest?"
God: "A man-making contest."

The scientist: "Sure! No problem".
The scientist bends down and picks up a handful of dirt and says, "Okay, I'm ready!"

God replies, "No, no, no... You go get your own dirt."

i rarely c/p but...

Below are questions that people "actually asked" of Park Rangers around the country, proving once again that there is no known limit to the depths of human stupidity.



(Source: Outside Magazine)

Grand Canyon National Park...
Was this man-made?
Do you light it up at night?
I bought tickets for the elevator to the bottom -- where is it?
So where are the faces of the presidents?

Everglades National Park...
Are the alligators real?
Are the baby alligators for sale?
Where are all the rides?
What time does the two o'clock bus leave?

Denali National Park (Alaska)...
What time do you feed the bears?
Can you show me where the yeti lives?
How often do you mow the tundra?
How much does Mount McKinley weigh?

Mesa Verde National Park...
Did people build this, or did Indians?
Why did they build the ruins so close to the road?
What did they worship in the kivas -- their own made-up religion?
Do you know of any undiscovered ruins?
Why did the Indians decide to live in Colorado?

Carlsbad Caverns National Park...
How much of the cave is underground?
So what's in the unexplored part of the cave?
Does it ever rain in here?
How many Ping-Pong balls would it take to fill this up?
So what is this -- just a hole in the ground?

Yosemite National Park...
Where are the cages for the animals?
What time do you turn on Yosemite Falls?
Can I get my picture taken with the carving of President Clinton?

Yellowstone National Park...
Does Old Faithful erupt at night?
How do you turn it on?
When does the guy who turns it on get to sleep?
We had no trouble finding the park entrances, but where are the exits?

bad luck?

Fire authorities in California found a corpse in a burned-out section of forest while assessing the damage done by a forest fire. The deceased male was dressed in a full wet suit, complete with scuba
tanks on his back, flippers, and face mask.

A postmortem test revealed that the man died not from burns, but from massive internal injuries. Dental records provided a positive identification. Investigators then set about to determine how a fully clothed diver ended up in the middle of a forest fire.

It was revealed that on the day of the fire, the man went diving off the coast, some 20 miles from the forest. The fire fighters, seeking to control the fire as quickly as possible, had called in a fleet of helicopters with very large dip buckets. Water was dipped from the ocean and emptied at the site of the forest fire.

You guessed it. One minute our diver was making like Flipper in the Pacific, the next, he was doing the breast stroke in a fire dip bucket 300 feet in the air. Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.
___________________________________________

Still think you're having a bad day?

A man was working on his motorcycle on the patio, his wife nearby in the kitchen. While racing the engine, the motorcycle accidentally slipped into gear. The man, still holding onto the handlebars, was dragged along as it burst through the glass patio doors.

His wife, hearing the crash, ran in the room to find her husband cut and bleeding, the motorcycle, and the shattered patio door. She called for an ambulance and, because the house sat on a fairly large hill, went down the several flights of stairs to meet the paramedics and escort them to her husband.

While the attendants were loading her husband, the wife managed to right the motorcycle and push it outside. She also quickly blotted up the spilled gasoline with some paper towels and tossed them into the toilet.

After being treated and released, the man returned home, looked at the shattered patio door and the damage done to his motorcycle. He went into the bathroom and consoled himself with a cigarette while attending to his business. About to stand, he flipped the butt between his legs.

The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband screaming. Finding him lying on the bathroom floor with his trousers blown away and burns on his buttocks, legs and groin, she
once again phoned for an ambulance. The same paramedic crew was dispatched.

As the paramedics carried the man down the stairs to the ambulance they asked the wife how he had come to burn himself. She told them.
They started laughing so hard, one slipped, the stretcher and dumping the husband out. He fell down the remaining stairs, breaking his arm.
______________________________________________
Still having a bad day? Just remember, it could be worse...

The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska was $80,000. At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively saved animals were being released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a killer whale ate them both.
_____________________________________________
Still think you are having a bad day?

A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire running from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy
plank of wood, breaking his arm in two places. Up to that moment, he had been happily listening to his Walkman.
_______________________________________________
STILL think you're having a bad day?

Two animal rights protesters were protesting at the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn, Germany. Suddenly, all two thousand pigs broke loose and escaped through a broken fence, stampeding madly The two hopeless protesters were trampled to death.
____________________________________________

What?! STILL having a bad day??

Iraqi terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn't pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with "return to sender" stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits. There now, feeling better?

Friday, January 02, 2004

Oldish Mannish (part 1)

Today, I went to the Raptors game...

After the so-so start to the year, the Raptors were above .500 and they had pretty good players including the 'franchise' Vince Carter, and new players, including Jalen Rose.

So...after my dad's obvious Asian attraction to cheap tickets, I found myself in the SPRITE ZONE!!!

'Ok' I thought to myself. ' The seats are kinda cramped, and this guy's kneecap is up my spinal cord...but its ok...for the SPRITE ZONE!!'

So after the anthem (sung by this unknown singer), the game started. And ended, right there, in the first 15 minutes. Why you ask? Simple. After 5 minutes, the Raptors trailed 16-5, and after the first quarter were down something like 12-30.

So...to pass the time, I started looking around. And saw him. This guy, with the Einstein hairstyle, but with this mad bald spot ( I mean..I could see my reflection in his cranium...I wanted to polish it for him..but it was clear his wife already had.) was using a pair of binoculars to scope the game!

Ok...so theres nothing wrong with that..but you should have seen it! This oldish man..like...maybe 63ish....was perched on the first 10 percent of his chair...(I could have put two massive parka's behind him and he never would have noticed) with both eyes squinting, mouth open, breathing heavily ( I guess he was really into the action..it was like 'huuHH!! huhhHH') and then he kept muttering too!

'We're getting killed...We're getting murdered' the man (now known as Oldish Manish) muttered to his wife. 'Do you see it dear? we're getting murdered.'

He was so pitiful that he desereved an Oscar alone for the appearance. I mean..picture Jack Nicholson..only more...dark skinned in Something About Smidt.

SO anyway, as I half expected him to burst into tears, his wife says:'Honey, Sweety....GET A LIFE!'

Woah. I expected: ' Honey...Sweety...here...have an Oscar'
Or...'Honey..Sweety...here...have a hanky..it's clear that you're about to cry'

Did I describe the wife?

Picture...Patty or Selma. Yeh..only fatter, and no smoking.

Same voice though. Fancy that.

Anyway...the game progressed, and the Raptors attempted a comeback, but at the end, they lost.

And the battle beside me...ended in a tie: the marriage survived...


I'll post more of the Oldish Manish Wars later..tired...



date: Jan 2nd, 2004
time: 2:29 pm


(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
heyt
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
hey
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
waz up dude
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
nuttin...how was hockey last week?
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
it was awsome dude
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
like totaly
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
yeh...i heard gerald broke his stick
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
ya dude
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
it sucks man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
dude u going to the thing man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
well dude u going
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
huh?/
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
dude the gathering man
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
huh?
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
dude u didnt get the e mail man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
dude Cedric party man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
well u going man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
dude say somthing
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
nah
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
y man
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
i'm going to the raptors game today
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
there be a raper dude
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
kool man
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
raper?!
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
ya man a guest that chould rap dude didnt u see the e mail man
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
yo man u going to play hokey dude
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
ohh..i thought you said raper..as in someone who rapes
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
no
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
well i dont no man
phaetonn.blogspot.com says:
what?!
(li) FUJI APPLE(li) says:
what man?

Thursday, January 01, 2004

Theory of Relativity

Theory of Relativity: for those who do not understand why time goes slower at great speed.

Answer: It’s because you keep changing time zones. See, if you fly to California, you gain three hours on a five-hour flight, right? So if you go at the speed of light, you gain more time, because it doesn’t take as long to get there.

Disclaimer: of course, thus the theory of relativity only works if you’re going west.

In my opinion, television validates existence

In my opinion, television validates existence.

For instance: you reading this blog. The experience is fleeting, and elusive. By tomorrow, you may have forgotten it, and it may as well not even have happened.

But if you were on TV right now, viewers would share in the even and confirm it! This even would become a part of mass consciousness!

And on TV, the impact of an event is determined by the image, not its substance. So with some strong visuals, your reading could conceivably make you a cultural icon!

Instead of being my dear reader, you could be ‘My dear reader- AS SEEN ON TV’

Wouldn’t that be great?

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve

On window panes, the ice frost
Leaves feathered patterns, crissed and crossed
But in our home the Christmas tree
Is decorated festively
With tiny dots of colored light
That cozy up this winter night
Christmas songs, familiar, fast and slow
Play softly on the radio
Pops and hisses from the fire
Whistle with the bells and choir
My friend is now fast asleep
On her back and dreaming deep
When the fire makes her hot
She turns to warm whatever’s not
Propped against her on the rug
I give my friend a gentle hug
Tomorrow’s what I’m waiting for
But I can wait a little more

black and white old photographs

How come old photographs are always black and white? Didn’t they have color film back then?

Actually, they did have color film. In fact, those old photos are in reality color. It’s just that the world itself was black and white then.

‘Really?’ You ask.

Of course, dear reader, you see, the world didn’t turn color until sometime in the 1930’s, and it was pretty grainy color for a while, too.

‘Weird’, you scoff? Well, dear reader, truth is stranger then fiction.

‘Wait’ you say, ‘then why are old paintings in color?! If the world was black and white, wouldn’t artists have painted it that way?’

Simple. You see, not necessarily: a lot of great artists were insane.

‘But…but how could they have painted in color anyway? Wouldn’t their paints have been shades of gray back then’ you shout.

Of course: but they turned color like everything else did in the 30’s.

‘So why didn’t old black and white photos turn white too?’ you declare.

Well, that’s because they were color pictures of black and white remember?
Well first...History class. American History. Grade 11.

Teacher: Mrs. Synder.

For the past month or so, the classroom has been unbearably hot, Turns out that something was wrong with the thermostat. Mrs. Snyder has been complaining about it for a while now, and so today: results.

Midway through a president presentation (John Quincy Adams…did you know that his dad was a president too?) a strange man came in the room. Dressed in simple coveralls and carrying a toolbox, I knew he could only be one person. I turned to my friend, Nick.

“It’s Santa.” I whispered. “Just look at the tell-tale signs: the overall pudginess, the jolly smile-”

“Shut up. Before I make you shut up.”

“Hah I just remembered! Pudge-Pudge!”

“Ok, that’s it.”

“OW!”

I rubbed my shoulder. Great, I thought. I’ve developed a muscle spasm in my shoulder. Then I realized who the Santa-man was:

“He’s just the stupid janitor!” I exclaimed to Nick.

No one really noticed, but I’m sure the janitor heard me. So, I subtly decided to sneak a look, to see if he was looking at me, or worse: judging which hammer would hit my head at a greater speed.

I peeked.

He was staring at me. You know in the” Simpson’s” the janitor Willy? Yeah, imagine HIM staring at you. I was so scared.

So of course, I peeked again.

Ok, the man was staring twin holes in my head. I’m sure if I reached up, and touched the top of my head, I’d find a hole…or two. Then it hit me: maybe I could make it better by saying something that would COMPLIMENT his job.

“Uh...I meant…Head of Custodial Engineering…” I croaked. Suddenly-hissing! It was like gas was leaking into the room or something. Nah...couldn’t be…

So of course, I peeked again.

The man was prying a piece of very-important looking piece of equipment out of the wall.

Making no attempt at subtlety, (my teacher never does) Ms. Snyder decided at that moment to say:

“Is that gas hissing out of the wall?”

The whole class quieted down.

Then, Santa-man decided to say this: “Haha. If it is, then we’ll all be dead in about 10 seconds.”

You might think he said it out of fun, but if you were there, then you know better. The man was so serious there was NO way that he could have been sarcastic. No way.

Then to make it worse, Ms. Snyder said, “excellent.”

I peeked at Santa-man. He wasn’t staring at me now, but was cramming something into the wall to make the hissing stop. Only problem was that, the harder he pushed, the louder the hissing got. I could see worried faces going around the room. What if that WAS gas? What if we all died? What if this Santa-man wasn’t even a janitor?

The class quieted down again. I peeked again. WHAT?!

Santa-man was holding a gun! He was aiming at the ceiling, but nevertheless, there was proof! I mean, there was even that little red laser dot like on those sniper rifles.

Turns out it wasn’t even a gun. Just measured temperature. Well. I think my gun theory was better.

But this is the weird part: after he fixed the problem, he left. We closed the door. With like 5 minutes left in class, we heard a weird noise at the door.

IT WAS SANTA-MAN!! He was looking through the window and aiming the gun/”temperature-thing” into the class.

But, hey. Just another day.

I know what blog stands for now...
weB LOG

I said earlier that a BLOG is actually a Web Log. So if you take the B from web, and add it to LOG, you get BLOG.

I alone, discovered this.
This is a list of the funniest stuff that a single person could ever accomplish in a year.
Once you read this, you'll respond the same way I did of the thought of this hapless dude doing this stuff: Hysterically.

However, to protect the ignorant individual, the name will be changed. Instead of this person's REAL name, we will simply call him Eric.

Eric:

Once said that he was putting his foot down on the matter. When he tried to stomp on the ground to prove his point, THIS happened:

First, his foot came down in all the wrong angles. It was supposed to come down straight; however, it came down SIDEWAYS.

Secondly, when his foot actually made contact with the ground, it didn't. His ankle did, instead.

So, picture this: a tall gangly kid who says he's going to stomp on the ground, then ends up almost breaking his ankle, while saying: "I'm going to step on it! That's fina--AUGHH!"
***

Once wore a Bledsoe jersey to school. Now the Bledsoe jersey has the number 11 on it. Thus, because he hadn't done anything stupid that day yet, he decided at that moment to say: "Yo, whoever wears number 11 has NO skill."
We all stared for a moment, while ERIC, completely oblivious, stood there, grinning. Then, one of us said, " Uh, ERIC, you ARE wearing number 11."

ERIC's reply: "I know."
***

At lunch, Paul was saying "..anyway, whoever likes fish and chips is mad gay."
ERIC turns around, and with a smile, says, "I love fish and chips."
***

Copies people's trademarks. I mean, do you remember when in the sound of music when "Frualine Maria" jumps up with a suitcase AND guitar in her hands and clicks her heels? I mean, the woman was charging down the street with about 70 kilos of stuff in her hands and she manages to do it TWICE while singing in a perfect voice! So, its like, if SHE can do that..how hard can it be, if you have NOThing in your hands, and are just standing there?

Well not everyone can just start jumping in the air and hitting their heels together. Well...not when ERIC attempts to do it. Not only does he miss but he falls over. HE FALLS OVER. Again, almost breaking his ankle.

***

Once said: "Honestly, who wears a watch thats bigger then their wrist?"
The answer, my sad inane friend is ANYONE who wears a watch. It would be impossible to have a watch smaller then your wrist.
***
Spent 4 days colouring a piece of paper with a pencil. The whole time, he kept commenting on his art with quotes like "ahaha!! its getting smaller!!!"(referring to the white area...I think) and "YES! Thats MAD big!"
***
Is EASILY confused and disorientated.
***
In history: Needed to rip a piece of paper in half. He was doing fine, but his ripping was only like 1cm per hour. So he sped up to about 5 cm per hour, and somehow ripped a jagged diagonal line, thereby RUINING the paper.
***
Anyway..theres more..but here are the top 8 so far...
This is something that happened to Byron at Weedlands.

Setting: second period English
10:43, Tuesday October 34th. 2003

What happened: Anyway, yeah these two guys were in the front. One was in grade 10. The other? Also grade 10. The rest of the class? Also grade 10.

Anyway, these two guys were in the front. The teacher was writing something on the board, and so her back was turned to the class. Then, it happened.

One of the guys, a tall, gangly, pale fellow reached over...and poked his friend.

His friend was a short, pimply, pudgy kid, who had been eating some candies. Because he had been pushed, his skittles now..well, skittled across the ground.

The pudgy kid (from now on known as pudge-pudge) slowly turned his head. There was this huge vein in his head, his forehead really, and now it bulged out like it was going to pop. And then, it did.
(okok, joking.)

What really happened was that Pudge-Pudge then poked tall gangly man(from now on referred to as tall-tall) a little harder then was needed. Now as we all know there are three types of pokes.

1. The kiddy poke: as in..hehe!! i'm poking the clown!
2. The Industrial-size poke: as in..ok! i'm going try to take out your eye with this poke!!
3. The Economy-size poke: as in..ok! You might as well cut a hole in your side..it would be neater then the hole I"M going to poke there...

So of course Pudge-Pudge didn't do pokes number 1 or 2. But neither did he do 3. No. He did his own poke, which was like a poke level...16.

Tall-Tall then used his awesome spider fingers to tickle the chin of Pudge-Pudge.

Not smart.

So a poking/tickling match ensued, while the teacher, COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS continued to talk of "binomials."

Then THIS happened:

Tall-Tall, had a high, high nasel voice and, at this moment he decided to scream: "STOP GAYING ME!!"

The whole class stopped in shock at this pathetic attempt at a "diss".

The teacher turned around. Just in time to see Tall-Tall scream once more: "STOP GAYING ME!!"

Was the point of this story to be funny? No. To be enlightening? No. The point of this story is to take up space in my blog. And you know what? It did. Mission Accomplished.

Oh, fyi, Byron still has nightmares in which people chase him yelling "STOP GAYING ME!!"
Exactly three...or four years ago, I almost killed one of my best friends. Twice.

How is this possible? Some of you may ask.

No one could be that klutzy! Others screech.

But never the less. Or is it nevertheless?


His name is Byron, Average dude. Rocker. Goes to Woodlands. Weedlands to most. However, when this happened, we were in grade 6.
Two wicko awesome asian dudes, chillin in down town brown town (Brampton), and we were taking a break from helping at this soup kitchen thing.

So we went out back. Some kids might have pulled out a cigarette.

But me? I decided to prod around in the dumpster.

At that age, dumpsters were fascinating. You never knew if some hobo was going to jump out at you. Anyway, there were no hoboes. After rooting around for awhile, I noticed this green stuff on my hands. Casually, so no one could see me make a fool out of myself (yeah right) I wiped it on the dumpster. Only it didn’t work. Two reasons.

One: The green stuff was more sticky then superglue. I mean, I still see some of it on my hand today.

Two: The dumpster wasn’t exactly clean. Which meant it was dirty. Which meant I just wiped it clean. And that dirt? Yeah, now on my hand.

So still casual, I casually walked over to Byron, and casually tried to wipe off this nasty gunk on his t-shirt.

Have you ever tried to pick off gum from your shoe, and deposit it under a table or something, WHILE trying not to have anyone notice?

Yeah, that was how hard it was . Only TEN-FOLD.

Not being a fool, Byron easily saw my hand coming closer, and jumped up. (He probably saw it because the added “baggage” made a massive shadow fall across the entire alley)

Being a total fool, I got up, and not-so-casually chased him waving my hand in front of me like a jousting stick, and screaming ”I JUST WANT TO HOLD YOUR HAND!!!”

This all happened in downtown too. As people stared, we raced down the street, when it happened.

Byron decided to cross the street.

Once again, not being a fool, he looked both ways, before using the agility of a NFL running back to jet across the road.

Once again, being a total fool, using the agility of a pregnant hippo, I ran after him. He turned in horror. At first, I thought the horrified face was because of me. But then, I turned around too. And saw a green van with 5 people inside headed straight for us.

The van itself was not in great shape. The brakes were probably shot too. The driver, probably the mother of the 4 kids at the back was yelling something about haggis when she suddenly saw us in front of her.

She swerved the van so hard, that one of the kids nearly went through a window. He probably would have broken a window. Only the van was so old, there WAS no window.

Anyway, that’s how I almost killed him.

Twice you ask?

Yeah. Unbelievably the SAME thing happened less then 5 hours later.

We were going to Wendy’s afterwards, and the intersection thingie was flashing

DON’T WALK

So of course we walked, thanks to my not-so-casual screams of “C”MON! we can make it!”

We got halfway across the intersection. Until the school bus nearly hit us.

IT veered away, and almost rear-ended a limo with the sign “JUST MARRIED” that just happened to be driving by.


I've been thinking.

I believe history is a force. Its unalterable tide sweeps all people and institutions along its unrelenting path. Everything and everyone serves history's single purpose.

What is that purpose, you ask?

Why to produce ME of course! I'm the end result of history!

Think of it: Thousands of generations lived and died to produce my exact, specific parents, whose reason for being, obviously, was to produce ME.

All history up to this point has been spent preparing the world for my presence.


Now, I'm here, and history is vindicated.
Yesterday I was at the park, and I saw this little pigeon that was walking with a limp.
And when he stood still, he leaned on his bad foot, like a cane, raising one wing for balance.

It was the saddest thing I ever saw. I felt really sorry for him.

But then, an amazing thing happened! With one flap of his wings, he flew the entire span of the park! In another second, he effortlessly shot into the blue sky, and out of sight!

Suddenly, my teacher said "Class, please turn to chapter 5...Understanding Trigonomtry and other insanely unneeded stupid problems...."

Then, I felt really sorry for myself.
I had a dream one night. I could fly. By simply moving my fingers and hands, I could soar to unreasonable heights. I was the happiest person in the world. I could effortlessly glide through the air; gravity had NO effect on me; I could go wherever i wanted, and do whatsoever when I felt like it.

I could float down the road, or sleep like I was on a space shuttle.

Nothing could bring me down physically or emotionally.

I had no stress whatsoever, I was on top of the world.

then I woke up.
It was monday. The thirteenth. Of Monday.
I looked out the window. and it was raining. On Monday the thirteenth. I looked at my hands and tried to fly. I couldn't.
Well, well, well...its the first post of wk. I had the wierdest conversation today. I asked my azn friend whether she knew that Columbia University was actually NOT in Columbia.
The following short conversation took place.

me: hey, btw, did you know that columbia university isn't in columbia?
her: yeah, columbia is a crack nation
me: what?! no, i meant the city
her: yeah the city's a crack nation too.
me: what?! how can a city be a crack nation?!
her: the leafs lost again.
me: wha?!

At this point I left, wondering whether she was just joking. I was almost convinced that she was, until THIS happened. We were discussing music and i decided to type in
"got rice?"
Imagine my shock when she told me she said "what's got rice?"! Then THIS conversation took place because of that...

me:...no way, impossible
her: whats got rice? tell me!
me: ARGH! wait wait wait..you're asian too?!
her: is it like got milk? you know the commercials?
me:....at least tell me you know of boa or jay chou
her: they go to our school?
me: argh!

some people make you wonder. Then laugh.