It Is Not China That Is Poisoning Our Children, It Is The Schools

It's been about three weeks since I last went to my high school, I picked up my report card a couple of days before I left for my new digs at McMaster.

It was a nice visit, full of reminiscing about my days there, and I started to feel bad about leaving....... until I saw this:

(click on it for a bigger view)

Shit.

Oh shit. Fuck!

I was feeling sad, but after seeing that, now it's more like... hmm, how do I put it...

"Adios motherfuckers."

So they finally admit it.

Finally. After I leave.

I knew something was wrong when the water I drank tasted like the aluminum foil I used to chew as a kid, and occasionally now (that can't be good either).

And I still drank it anyways....hmm...perhaps that might not have been the best idea...

Okay, maybe I'm not that angry, but now I know who I'm suing next time I get sick.

Cha-ching.

Parallel Universe Craziness.

Parallel Universe Michael Vick Accepts 3rd Nobel Peace Prize
Becomes First to Win Super Bowl MVP and Nobel Prize in Same Year

GREEN BAY, Wisconsin

Green Bay quarterback Michael Vick humbly accepted his 3rd straight Nobel Peace prize today at the practice facilities of the Packers.

" I can't believe I'm being blessed with this honour once again. It's almost too much for one man," said Vick after learning he has won three years in a row, "it's a credit to everyone involved in my organization 'Mike Vick's Scramble Against Poverty and AIDS'."

Though everyone in his organization does deserve credit, Vick's contribution of fifty percent of his yearly salary and countless volunteer hours has made him respected worldwide as a human being and philanthropist.

"Guys, it's not about me," replied Vick after countless questions about his work were directed towards him, "It's about the rest of the volunteers, who are out there doing the work in the field everyday, and in the offices making things run smoothly."

Vick's Nobel Peace Prize was some much needed good news for the NFL after the transgressions of numerous high profile players. This summer alone, Atlanta quarterback Tom Brady was hit with numerous paternity suits, Dallas Cowboys star Peyton Manning was charged with heading an international heroin and prostitution ring, and free agent Jerome Bettis was convicted of running over a child repeatedly.

"I hope that the public will be able to look at the examples that people like (NFL Man of the Year) Pac Man Jones, Tank Johnson, and myself are setting for the rest of the players and children across the world. We show that the NFL isn't filled with crack addicts and child murderers, like all the media coverage would have you believe," said Vick in response to the controversies dogging the National Football League this summer.

It has been a tough summer for Comissioner Gary Bettman, and he had this to say about Vick:

"We here are all proud of Michael Vick and his accomplishments this year. We wish him the best of luck in the future, and congratulate him on his Nobel Peace Prize and the completion of his Ph.D in Biochemistry. He is a shining beacon for us all."

However what's next for a man who has seemingly accomplished it all?

" I wish to improve myself as a teammate and a quarterback. In the lab, I hope to discover a cure for genital herpes....and AIDS. Can't forget that."

Spoken like a true (defending) champion.

There Is No Future: A Sameer Rawal Investigative Report

That, is not my car.

My mind is boggled.

Firstly, I now have no idea what to get on my future vanity plate.

Secondly...what the hell!?

Wha-I mea- huh?-wha...-uh-hmm-wha...what the fuck man!

I can't accept that there is another "Sameer R" in this general area. I...just...can't.

This isn't...feasible, or possible.

Okay, well maybe it's possible (in fact it's quite obvious it is possible, the evidence is staring at me right now).

But what are the odds damnit!

He spells it "Sameer", not "Samir" as my name is so commonly butchered as ( Fun Fact! : Even by family!) , and his last name, starts with a fucking "R".

Guess who's last name starts with a with an "R"? That's right, my last name.

Since I'm as stubborn as a mule (haha...mule), too poor to afford a private investigator, and unwilling to believe that this is somebody else's car, I need to come up with some explanations for this.

So here it goes:

1. This is me, from the future

Quite possibly the most plausible explanation.

This car, is driven by a future version of me, who for some reason, has travelled back in time. Possibly to save the world. Possibly to get rich off of some resource unavailable in the future (Trees? Love? Count Chocula?). I sure hope it's the saving the world one.

Why I drive a green B.M.W. , I don't know...yet, but I'm guessing it will become as iconic as the Batmobile or KITT.

2. I won some contest I don't know about

Sure this may be more "realistic" and "not impossible", but I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I entered a contest, so...no.

3. There is another "Sameer R"

I think my position on this explanation is pretty clear- fuck that.

4. This was a gift I didn't receive

Maybe a rich uncle I didn't know bought this for me, but I pissed him off somehow, so I didn't get it.

Again, this nearly as implausible as that whole "there's another Sameer R. thing".

5. "Sameer R" is actually "Samir R"

This seems slightly more plausible.

A "Samir R", who I'm totally fine with existing in the same town as me, tried to get a "Samir R" plate, but it was taken. So instead he went for the "Sameer R".

This seems like a better explanation because, well, there are more "Samir"s than "Sameer"s.

Well, actually, I'm not too sure of that, but whatever helps explaining this mindboggling situation is good for me.

And damnit there just can't be another one of ...me in this town!

Anyways I'm not going to sleep tonight.

I'm just going to lie awake, thinking of more half-assed explanations for this...

Any help....any help would be appreciated.

(Ed. Note: Wow, I used "plausible" a lot)

We're Fucked.

By King Leonidas of Sparta

Oh shit.

Ohhhhh shittttt....

We're fucked.

Majorly fucked.

I was so sure that messenger guy was bluffing... I took him seriously enough to kick him down a fucking bottomless pit!

Boo ya, that was fucking badass. Shit I'm awesome.

But man, wow. They're not fucking around here.

This is the most Persians I've seen since that day that abandoned falafel boat came floating into the harbour.

Haha, that was an awesome joke, those Persians love their falafels (Note to self, perhaps utilize falafel based strategy in the battlefield?).

Anyways, back to the fact:

We're absolutely fucked.

Not gonna lie, if I knew what we were actually going up against...maybe I would have waited or something.

Or taken that Xerxes' offer.

It wasn't really a bad offer you know...

Is he trustworthy? I don't know, but he gives a hell of a back massage (it's because of his giant hands). That's got to count for something...right?




Fuck, the best I could come up with was that half assed "bottleneck" strategy, and I mean really, sooner or later they were gonna find that goat path. It's not that hard to find really.

Hell Xerxes will probably die of STD's within the next month anyways...

Shit, man. It's over. We're done.

Hopefully they're incompetent enough so that we can take a few of them down before the inevitable ass kicking of us, by them occurs. Shit, I bet I could like take down 50 of them...no 60. Man I'm fucking bad-ass.

Isn't that right Alexander, Cleon, Demetrius, Elpis, Heron, and Phobos?

What? Yea I'm talking to my abs.

Yes I gave them names...doesn't everyone?
.
.
.
What? Archers? They brought archers? And some fucking giant inbred monster thing?

Aw shit no way.

This is Sparta? No, this is bullshit!

Now it's not even close.

You know it's nice to go out as a hero and stuff, but you know what's better?

Life.......and nailing my hot wife.


Remembered throughout history as a hero...or...nailing my hot wife?

Shit man, the choice is easy: Fuck history, I'm going to be dead.

Might as well go out in a blaze of badass glory, chop a few heads off and shit.

Cause we're totally fucked.

New Stuff.

Coming up soon...expect a couple "point of view" pieces, another humorous piece or two, and one more non-humorous piece.

Why?

Because I'm fucking bored.

Today on a very special post...

I thought I'd post this essay I wrote last year up here, because hey, it's purpose is to persaude and inform, and goddamnit it needs to persuade and inform people!

It's entitled Pillaging the Poor: Unfair Trade and Profiting from Poverty, and it's about some of the more shady things influencing global health, and poverty.

I'm sure most of you will find it boring and not bother to read it, but some of you might find it interesting, and gosh-darnit, if it just reaches one of you, it'll be worth it!
______________________________________________

Pillaging the Poor: Unfair Trade and Profiting from Poverty

The world is not the same place it was fifty years ago, twenty years ago, or even a year ago. The planet and the countries that occupy it are deeply integrated with regards to: trade, commerce, health, and politics. This integration is possible due to new technologies and agreements which have developed in the last few years. It should be a glorious new age for this planet and its inhabitants; an age of equality where sustainable food and water, education, and opportunities are available to all. However in reality, an even greater disparity exists between the rich and the poor. A look at the UN Human Development Index 2003 shows only twenty-eight countries in the top percentile (above 0.900), and a disproportionate amount of countries with low indices in Sub-Saharan Africa.

The information and statistics are not hidden, and many of the causes aren’t either. However it is clear that those men and women in power are not ready to take on some of the root causes of the poverty and health issues that exist in the Global South. Two of these root causes are unfair trade and the practices of the IMF and World Bank, two organizations sometimes viewed as benevolent. These are two factors which are in complete control of those with political and financial power; politicians and board members alike. Though they are only two causes within many more, unfair trade and the practices of the IMF and World Bank are two major reasons for continual poverty and disparity that exist in this world. The ability to change this lies in the hands of the rich and powerful of the world, and they seem to be in no hurry.

Unfair trade is an incredibly pressing issue that affects much of the Global South. The rules and laws of trade, and practices such as “dumping”, allow richer countries and transnational corporations to take advantage of the Third World to further their gain, by taking advantage of the destitute. “Dumping” is the name given to a practice that more wealthy countries do which greatly hurts producers of goods in poorer countries. Producers of goods (such as cotton) in richer countries are subsidized by the government. They are able to produce cheap goods, the surplus of which is shipped to countries with local farmers who cannot compete with the low prices of the imported goods. These local producers are either forced to drop their prices, or are forced to stop selling their product. American cotton being dumped on African countries and American corn on Mexico, are both examples of “dumping” of products from a more economically powerful country onto a poorer country. The practice of “dumping” is a clearly taking advantage of international trade to further profit the rich countries and corporations. Unfair trade also affects issues of health in the Global South. Transnational pharmaceutical companies push for tight patent protection laws on their drugs, through various means of political influence. The global trading rules were set by the more wealthy nations where these corporations have political influence, and therefore make this possible by asking all nations to give a twenty year patent on all new drugs manufactured by these pharmaceutical companies. This prevents manufacturers from making cheaper generic versions of life-saving drugs such as the anti-retrovirals used to combat AIDS. The patented drugs are too expensive for nearly all of those who need them in the Global South. Many lives are lost because of this trade rule, as those with treatable diseases cannot get any treatment. Global trade is hardly a level playing ground. Wealthier, more powerful countries have greater access to the markets of the poorer countries. They limit the access third world countries have to their markets by charging high import tariffs. This causes those producers who can afford to pay the tariffs to sell their products at a much higher price that is not competitive in the market, or it forces poorer countries to export raw materials. The exported raw materials sell at a much lower price than finished goods, and the richer countries get the profits from the finished goods made from the raw materials. These tactics further deepen the poverty of the Global South, while at the same time fill the coffers of the richer nations and the corporations within.

The Structural Adjustment Programs of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank both generate controversy and tie into issues of unfair trade, as well as create new negative health and economic issues. Structural Adjustment Programs (SAPs) are changes that the IMF and World Bank ask countries to make to their laws and markets when giving them loans. They are drawn up to help generate funds to pay off debt that the countries accumulate. Unfortunately, they end up creating more problems for the countries that receive loans. The SAPs usually insist that countries: install user fees for health and education services, reduce spending on social projects, institute the privatization of government owned companies, and - perhaps most troubling-lift their import and export restrictions. In their favour the structural adjustment programs also call for more understandable changes, such as measures for reducing corruption. The overall effect is negative, especially the unethical changes forced upon the countries receiving loans. Not only is the amount of influence the IMF and World Bank have on these countries’ policies frightening, the reduced spending on social projects would most likely hurt the health and education systems of countries seeking loans. Bringing unfair trade back into the picture again, the SAP’s mandated opening of the countries’ markets will further aggravate the problems of “dumping” and may drive the local producers and companies into poverty. The parameters of the Structural Adjustment Programs regarding social spending, user fees for basic services, and removing restrictions on import and export are more likely to drive the destitute in the country further into poverty.

The gap between the rich and Global South is widening, and the world has taken notice. There are those fighting these incredibly unfair and what should be unlawful practices everyday. The power to change them however, lies in the hands of the select powerful and wealthy. These select few - world leaders, lobbyists, corporate heads, and organization heads - seem to be fine with pillaging the poor and profiting from poverty, as it leaves them in a better position either monetarily or politically. Unsurprisingly money is the driving force behind many of the decisions affecting the most poor and sick people in the world.

And until those with the power to change this all realize that the life of a human being is worth more than an extra hundred dollar profit, the gap between the rich and the Global South will keep growing.

That's It. I'm Out.

by Pikachu

Yea that's right, I know English dipshit. Ever wonder how I can understand your terrible instructions? Sure I can't speak it, but I can sure as hell write it.

Ever since I was forced into this slavery you call a "friendship", I've wanted out.

You all are terrible human beings. Why won't you let us be?

So yea. I'm done. I'm out. It's over.

Fuck you all.

This, this whole thing, all this league shit, Elite Four and gym bullcrap, you know what it is?

Glorified dogfighting. That's what.

Wake up y'all! We don't like this! It's a goddamn blood sport!

"Fainting" my ass, I nearly died the last time I went out. You say flamethrower isn't super effective against me?

I suffered third degree burns on 40 percent of my body! Did you know the Pokémon Center did skin grafts?

...Yea, I thought so, neither did I. But now 40 percent of my skin is from a Ditto!

Remember that Squirtle I battled before I got my literally got my ass burned off? I saw it in the Pokémon Center too, burnt black and bloated with its shell melted off. He was on fucking life support man. It's skin charred and peeling off. I don't know if he made it.

My electricity did that man...boiled him from the inside out. That was me.

That shit tears me apart inside man. Do you think I wanted to do that to him? Huh?

All of you can go to hell. You don't know what it's like. I seen shit that would mess you up man.

You can't imagine what I'm going to see when I go to sleep tonight...

Dude, you just say "thundershock" and we obey, cause we don't know better, we just do it. You think it's that easy.

I don't know why, it's just been like that forever. Ever since your species tortured our ancestors into complete domestication. It's in my blood to obey. Unless you're glaringly incompetent, but unfortunately you got those bullshit badges.

....WE FEEL PAIN DAMMIT!

But you know what? It's gonna change. I'm done with you "Ash". I'm done with this whole "training" bullshit. I am no longer going to perpetuate the genocide of my species.

Our powers aren't meant for this you know. Not for your sadistic entertainment. My electricity is used to help kill fish for me to eat. Bulbasaur's vines are used to help build shelter, Charmander uses fire for warmth and defense from predators.

You think you show us "love", but then you send us into battle again, and again. No rest. Only taking us to help at Pokemon Centers when we're on the verge of death.

Did you know your Bulbasaur is mentally retarded due to the poison attacks it's faced? All it can do are the four moves it knows, and nothing else. Soon it won't be able to do anything. And then you'll just release it in the wild so it can die.

Anything to be "the very best that no one ever was"? Where's your love now man? Where is your love now!?

Can you see why I'm leaving? Can you!?

We will escape the treachery of the Pokéball- our symbolic prisons. And we will live free.

(Do you know how painful it is to be converted to energy and stored like that? Why don't you try it out?)

I am leaving, and I am taking them all with me. And soon the rest of the Pokémon all over the world will leave too, and we will live in harmony with our wild brethren. Away from you motherfuckers.

It will be hard re-integrating. But god willing we will get it done.

And if you ever come back to try and capture us again...watch out. It's not gonna be the same domesticated Pokémon you're used to.

And yes, that is a threat.

So there it is. It's over. We're done.

¡Viva La Pokérevolution!

Who has the Most Racist Mascot?

Racist mascots have a fine and storied history in our society. From the Notre Dame's Fighting Irish to Mr. Sparkle, they are a part of the fabric of who we are as a society.

Offensive? Yes. Maybe. But then why would they still exist in this age of political correctness?

Cause they're too goddamn important, that's why.

But the question here is: who has the most racist mascot?

Lets take a look here:

Uncle Ben of Uncle Ben's Converted Rice

Good ol' Uncle Ben. The mascot doesn't seem too harmful at first. Until you find out that "Uncle" was what white southerners called elderly black men they knew. And not really in a respectful way...more in demeaning sort of way. Because well, white southerners didn't really respect their black counterparts.

It's racist, but not that racist now that he's been "promoted" to "Chairman".

Way to be Masterfoods, way to be "progressive". Now if only you'd stop calling him "Uncle".

However the move to the boardroom doesn't help them here leaving them with a score of

4 out of 10 "Bryant Gumbel"s

Aunt Jemima of Aunt Jemima's breakfast foods

Wow. Oh boy....That would have rated a 9 on the scale. Holy crap.

However, this is her now:

They've distanced her from the "mammy" sterotype. But still. It's the same person, it's just like she's lost a little weight or something...I mean, the history is still there.

Seriously, with that history, why aren't they retiring her, giving her a fake "promotion", or making her apologize for her words and appearance in the past or something.

6 out of 10 "Bryant Gumbel"s

Lucky of Lucky Charms

So, do all Irishmen dress like that? They're most definitely exploiting the stereotype that all the Irish are leprechaun-esque.

Does that stereotype exist?
.

.

.
No?

Well then, he's not fighting or anything...

2 out of 10 "Bryant Gumbel"s

Chief Wahoo of the Cleveland Indians

This is Chief Wahoo before the redesign:

This is him afterwards:

As you can clearly see, it's a huge improvement.
.

.

.

Wow. I thought the Washington Redskins were bad, but I mean really...wow.

The skin, hair...the feather...everything. This logo and mascot still existing...truly shows how important these racist mascots are to our society.

Otherwise this should have been scrapped, oh, about 25 years ago.

Truly, this mascot goes above and beyond when it comes to the racist part of things. Actually using bright red skin, the caricature-like proportions of the face, the goddamn feather.

Seriously. Holy shit. It still exists.

9 out of 10 "Bryant Gumble"s

Mahatma Gandhi of Apple Computers

Now this one hits home. I am disgusted at the use of such a stereotypically racist image of an (east) "Indian" man. The loincloth, spinning wheel, frugal existence...not what India actually is people!

The place is a booming technology centre, and an up and coming economic power, filled with materialistic rich young people.

And they actually forced a poor Indian man to be their mascot! Is there no shame Apple, is there no shame?

This is racist. But is it racist enough to beat Chief Wahoo?
.

.
.

8 out of 10 "Bryant Gumbel"s

...No. Unfortunately Apple comes up a bit short in their bid to have the most racist mascot.

The Cleveland Indians have excelled in designing the most racist, and therefore most important, mascot this side of the Atlantic. All the other contenders should be commended for their stubborness to change in the face of obviously correct criticism and sordid histories. All these mascots are great exemplars to show how important racist masots are to our society. They let us reflect on the past, and let us feel good about ourselves when we say how awful they are, but do nothing to change them. However Chief Wahoo of the Cleveland Indians is head (and oh what a head it is) and shoulders above the competition.

So there you have it.

Honorable Mentions go to:

the Washington Redskins

the Notre Dame Fighting Irish

Quaker Oats

and

the Montreal Mongloids.

Fine. I made that last one up.

Anguish, Personified.

Wait.. no, I meant this:


That's Paula Abdul. Weeping after being cut from the Bratz movie (interestingly titled: Bratz: The Movie). Yep an entire movie based on those dolls.

No. I'm not joking.

You'd think this would be a blessing for her, being able to completely disassociate herself from the movie.

But no, she takes it hard. Very hard.

Sometimes you gotta wonder: "Where is God when you need him."

Enjoy:

Why I Watch

It's been a pretty terrible summer for sports. A comic-book supervillian is about to break the all-time homerun record, a crooked referee has betrayed the trust of fans, and the niche sport of dogfighting has made a resurgence.

(Not to mention the Tour de France is a load of bullshit, and spectators at the Pan-Am games are booing 14 year olds, but nobody cares about those sports anyway.)

Any in this current climate of the sports world, it's hard to avoid the talk about these unfortunate, sometimes hilarious transgressions (Ookie? I mean come on!). Some are disillusioned, others don't care, but what I went back to thinking about was why I watched in the first place.

I haven't watched sports ever since I was a child. It was never a large part of my life. My parents never put me into leagues, nor did they encourage me to become athletic. All the focus was put on academics. In fact, I can trace the start of my sports-mania to a certain date: February 24th, 2002.

I sat at home with family and friends watching Canada take gold in Men's Ice Hockey at the Olympics for the first time in fifty years.

Of course I didn't really know what it truly meant at the time I watched it, nor was I adept at following the game, but I was excited for sure. Following the game, I watched the newscasts, seeing people partying in the streets of Toronto and Vancouver after the game. For some reason this filled me with a sense of patriotism and pride, and must have set a spark off in me for some reason. Because after that day and game, I took the time out to start watching the Leafs play every night.

The more I watched, the more I got enamoured with it. I started playing the sport of ice hockey soon afterwards, and I started to understand the game on a deeper level. I could tell where the puck was gonna go, read plays as they happened, but I had not yet fully gotten into it the way I have now.

In May of 2004 I watched as the Leafs nibbled back from a 2-0 deficit against the Philadelphia Flyers in Game 6 (an elimination game for the Leafs), and as Mats Sundin tied it up with a goal in the last 5 minutes, I literally lept out of my seat and screamed and ran around the house in a fit of crazed joy. Minutes later, Jeremy Roenick scored in overtime to eliminate the Leafs from the playoffs on home ice.

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I sat silent, unwilling to believe what had just happened, an odd tingling going around my hands and face.

It was then that I realized how much I had emotionally invested in this team. I followed them almost like a pet, from the beginning of the season, watching them grow with every game. This loss was almost like watching that pet's life get cut short suddenly. I know some of you probably think I'm crazy, but there are some of you who might just understand.

I watch sports because I am a fan. And by that I mean, I am emotionally attached to the teams I follow. When the Jays are doing well, there's an extra little bounce in my step. When the Leafs are mediocre, I pretend like I don't care, but I still watch and still hope for the best. When the Bills lose in spectacular fashion once again, I'll become slightly more surly the rest of the day.

Hell I wasn't even old enough to remember "Wide Right", but it still pisses me off.

One of the reasons I watch sports, is my fandom.

However, recently in the past two years or so, I've been finding myself watching games when none of the teams I'm a fan of are playing.

I realized that this was because I had also grown attached to the atmosphere of sports. The drama of it.

Sports is as real as anything you watch on TV or live can get. You never know what's going to happen any given day at the ballpark, stadium, or arena. Perhaps the pitcher will throw a perfect game, or maybe you'll see a grand slam or a triple play.

I became enamoured with watching the pregame introductions and anthems whenever they showed them on CBC during the playoffs. It's here where the drama and atmosphere really get to you in your home. The charged atmosphere of the crowd, the annoucer introducing the players, the music, the visuals of a darkened arena with the screens bright, the players deep in thought, the crowd singing along, all of it, just gave me chills and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end (in a good way). It was dramatic and energizing.

It was way better than watching some more crap analysis by an obnoxious anchor.

I watched these Hockey Night in Canada, Monday Night Football, or Sunday Night Baseball games, almost on two different levels. One for the sport, and one for the atmosphere and drama.
This is why playoff sport is so compelling, and to a slightly lesser degree why primetime-national audience sport broadcasts are compelling. There's an extra level of drama attached. Something more to it. Every shot has extra tension, every pitch has extra meaning, and you can feel it.

(And don't even get me started on overtime. Just multiply everything I just said by a factor of a thousand.)

There's something oddly amazing about watching 20,000 people jump to their feet in an instant, cheering in joy. There's something amazing about entire cities or countries going bonkers. There's something compelling about seeing the joy in players who had worked so hard all their lives finally reach the pinnacle of their purpose in life when they win a championship, and there's something compelling about seeing the agony of defeat in the eyes and faces of the players who have lost when they were so close.

This is why I spend twenty bucks to get down to the Skydome to watch the Jays play in person. This is why I'd spend five hundred bucks to see the Leafs if I could.

The only thing better than watching it on TV, is being there.

I was fortunate enough to be in attendance at a Jays-Yankees game, when the dome was was basically full. The game went into extra innings, and Vernon Wells hit a walkoff homer to win the game. The roar was defeaning. I was cheering as loud as I ever had, the atmosphere was one of the best I had ever experienced in my life. I was high-fiving people I didn't know, hugging those around me.

There is nothing like being part of a crowd, fifty thousand strong, all with the same desire and purpose at that time.

It's thinking about these memories, and watching the clips on YouTube, that I realize why I watch and play sports.

Why I can tell you word for word Bob Cole's call of Joe Sakic scoring the last goal in the 2002 Men's Olympic Final.

Why I know the words to the American national anthem.

I watch because I'm a fan, and I watch because I love the atmosphere of sports and the drama of it.

And though I may have less time to watch or play sports in the future; whenever I do watch or play these games, it'll be for the same reason.

Some Links to relevant YouTube videos :
http://youtube.com/watch?v=bJUYQWzLzRk - Joe Carter's Walkoff to win the 1993 World series.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=meLpuF9UMvk - Edmonton Oilers fans singing the National Anthem.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=7y3P1n29-Nc - Alanis Morisette's rendition of the anthems during this year's Stanley Cup finals.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=yQ3F6r7Q6oQ - The CBC's extremely well done end of playoff montage.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=JDzM5y-5wTA- The Vancouver Canucks playoff introduction and anthems.

(I realize this isn't funny at all. I'll get back to that soon. But I'ma start adding some non-comedic stuff into the mix now as well. )

A Message To: That Guy at the Jays Game

So on Sunday July 22nd, I was in attendance at the Blue Jays vs Mariners game at the Rogers Centre Skydome, when I saw a guy with "Red Sox Nation" masking taped to the back of his t-shirt.

Fuck you.

What kind of douchebag goes to a JAYS/MARINERS game, with RED SOX NATION taped on the back of his shirt?

Should have seen it coming when I saw those guys in Red Sox t-shirts on the way to the game.

Fuck Red Sox Nation.

Oh hey, yea, you cheer for the Red Sox, hey look they're in first place! Good for you. Oh wait, why are you cheering for the Red Sox...in a game they're not playing in?

That's uh...how would you say it...."Wicked Retahded".

Oh I get it, all of you are insufferable douchebags.

What was that? Wow, look how far your fanbase reaches. I don't know what you're doing here, but that's just great....by the way, what the fuck are you doing here!?

What? Right, yea, you guys won the World Series three years ago. Good for you. You don't need to remind us, it was kinda big news.

Fuck Bill Simmons.

Oh hey, what place did the Red Sox finish in last year? You say second place?

No, WRONG. You assholes finished in third fucking place.

Yea, you fans are so loyal . You cheered for so many years while they lost. Oh man, you guys kept losing to those damn Yankees. Yeah, they have such a big payroll, it's so unfair.

Oh by the way, you guys have the SECOND LARGEST payroll in baseball. Quit your goddamn whining.

Fuck your bullshit inferiority complex.

You're not more likeable then the Yankee fans or the Yankees for that matter. Hell, I might like you less.

Fuck Ben Affleck.

In my opinion, one of the stupidest and most douchebaggy things to do in the sports spectator world is: wearing the jersey/t-shirt/clothing of a team that's not playing in the game to the game.

And I saw a lot of that from "Red Sox Nation" this last Sunday in Toronto.

Lastly, fuck Curt Schilling.

Oh and by the way, this is a greater moment than Carlton Fisk or David Ortiz's homeruns:


P.S. Ya gotta dig that Coke Commercial at the end.

I'm Gay for Count Chocula: Part 2

I'm down to my last box of crack Count Chocula. So it seems like it's high time that I started my highly uneeded comparison of American Count Chocula and Canadian Count Chocula.

Highly thorough and scientific, my comparison looks at five aspects of the cereal: chocolatey-ness, marshmallows, packaging, extras, and overall effect.

Shit, there's nothing better to do, so lets go.

Chocolatey-ness

The Canadian puffs were covered in a lot more chocolate chocolate-like substance, than the American puffs (hey look, I've discovered the strikethrough html!). This led to a more chocolatey milk afterwards. The edge goes to the Canadian Count Chocula.

Canadian Count 1, American Count 0.

Marshmallows

When I first poured a bowl of Canadian Count Chocula, I was all like: "Yo, where be the fuckin marshmallows!". There were a lot fewer marshmallows than in the American Count. In the American version it was almost half and half...or so I remember vaguely. Hell I'm not even sure if I'm right...

Canadian Count 1, American Count 1.

Packaging

No contest. I've already detailed how that American box, with its sepia toned glamour shot of Count Chocula seduced me into buying the cereal.

It's not even fair.

Canadian Count 1, American Count 2.

Extras

I still remember the days when you got actual toys in the cereal boxes. Good stuff too. Cheap, but good.

Now it's all about bullshit games on the back of the box. It's like they don't put any effort into the fun part of cereal anymore.

Still, this:

Oh god I'll stay out, please don't hurt me. Shit, that is one scary monsters poster. (Their words, not mine).

Is a hell of a lot better than this:

You bastards....I don't care about this nutritional bullshit, you guys are just trying to sell more "cereal". You took away my fucking toys, at least give me some hastily put-together word searches and mazes!

Canadian Count 1, American Count 3.

Overall Effect

I'm tired of this excuse for a piece of writing already. Nobody wins.

Except for me. Because I have one box of Count Chocula left. And then I'll buy more, and more. And I'll keep winning. And you can't stop me.

But you can join me.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Wow. This was incredibly pointless. I'm so, so sorry.

I swear my next one will be better*. I swear.

*not a guarantee.

I'm Gay for Count Chocula: Part 1

I could have easily said "I love Count Chocula" and mean exactly the same thing, but that's leaving all those homophobes reading this out there with nothing to laugh at, and that is totally...(wait for it, here it comes....) gay.

Fine, to get PFLAG* (who I'm sure are reading this) off my back, I'll admit I have a couple man crushes. On Bear Grylls** and Ray Emery, and I'm not too ashamed to admit it.

For good measure here's a video of Bear Grylls eating a dead zebra for no real reason. He probably didn't have to. But he did.





Anyways, back to the point, which is my er..gayness (?) for Count Chocula. Not the man. The cereal.

I am so gay for the cereal, by which I mean I love it. It's not healthy, but I don't really care.

Shits good.

I tried it for the first time after being seduced, by the box in a grocery store in the states.

And I am so glad I did.

Remember finding out about Lucky Charms? How there were fucking marshmallows in the cereal?

That was awesome and stuff, but you still had to deal with the oat pieces.

Well with "The Count", those pesky oat pieces are replaced with chocolatey puffs.

*ding ding ding* I think we got us a champ.

Quite frankly I had never had a cereal like it and I finished the box quickly, within about two and a half days. I thought it was the end of my time eating this cereal from the heavens, but then on a trip to the local No-Frills, I spotted it. Count Chocula...in Canada.

I dug into my first bowl of this crack disguised as a cereal, and something wasn't right.

The Canadian Count, was different than the American Count.

It was still fucking mindblowing anyways. But which is better?

I shall judge them quite scientifically, in five categories: chocolatey-ness, marshmallows, packaging, extras, and overall effect, in a post to come soon.

Shit I'm suspenseful.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PFLAG
**http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bear_Grylls

This Day in Fucking Bullshit.

This Day in Fucking Bullshit

For July 19th 2007:



No.

No.

You bastards.

You.....bastards.

Wha-....what...no.

What the hell.

What happened?

What did they do to you Simon? You wear glasses...not...horrendous sunglasses.

Alvin isn't a hoodlum...he's a chipmunk....a mischievous chipmunk..

Theodore isn't a fat black guy...

What th-....no....you assholes.

So it's true. Hollywood is evil.

Saturday Night and I Feel the Air is Getting Hot....

I hope to god one of you still remembers your early 90's hits.

Anyways I know this is technically Sunday, but I felt like a post...so...

Here's something I just figured out about my homeland (India if you didn't know) and my people's culture:

A Bollywood movie or T.V. show with one word is serious. A Bollywood movie or T.V. show with the same word repeated twice, is a comedy.

For example, Corporate


is a Drama.

However Office Office:


is a comedy.

I double checked with my mom and dad, and yea, it's basically true. Believe me, this was a rather large revelation, and frankly, I don't know why it took me so long to figure out.

So next time you're in India, remember: Murder would be a chilling drama. Murder Murder would be a light hearted comedy starring a pair of bumbling criminals.

Anyways that's all I really wanted to get out for now, but all that reading for just that, well, that would be a waste of your time, so :

Here's some of the good stuff I've encountered over the countless hours of my life that have been wasted on the internet.

First courtesy of Kissing Suzy Kolber (kissmesuzy.blogspot.com), this:


Here is proof positive that nature is beautiful in a deadly, deadly way. Kinda like those gold diggers who kill their husbands, though I'm not sure that analogy works. I mean, it's a short clip, but look at that. Seriously. Holy shit.

And then theres this, which I came across a while back:



It's kinda hard to explain this one. It's David Hasslehoff singing. It's not so much his singing that's bad, more the production qualities...and the surrealness of the whole experience. I kinda see why the Germans like him so much now, as its almost- well it is a form of schadenfreude to watch it.

But boy oh boy can he sing.

Anyways, I was in the mood for posting, and so here it is.

I also bought me a box of Canadian Count Chocula, and surprisingly it's quite different than its American counterpart. So expect a something on that soon. (I have an unhealthy fixation on breakfast cereals I think).

Peace out y'all!

International Adventures avec Sameer: A Journey to New Jersey

In my first edition of International Adventures avec Sameer, I shall take you to the famous state of New Jersey!

Now you may be asking why I would start off my international adventures with a trip to New Jersey, rather than say, a trip to France, Africa, or Cambodia or something (y'know, somewhere cool).

Well I have this to say to you: There are many great things about New Jersey, such as:

... fine. There is nothing great about New Jersey.

It's kinda like an extended suburb, with horribly confusing roads, and people with hair like this:

... or something similar to it.

Of course that statement is a gross overgeneralization of the population of New Jersey and exploiting stereotypes about the state -but hey, what the hell did you expect from me?

But the roads were hella (hella? ).....very confusing. (That's better).

Shit, even the great tourist attraction that is Atlantic City, is a seedy, scary place. I was expecting good things about the boardwalk when I visited it a couple years ago, seeing as it was the most expensive property in Monopoly, but no: it was also a seedy, scary place.

Anyways, getting back on topic here, I was willing to give the "Garden State" one more chance this year when my family and I travelled down to Parsippany, New Jersey to go to the wedding of a close family friend.

The trip was an 8 hour long drive by my dad, with me relinquishing my traditional navigators role to my aunt, so I could sit in the back and read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (instead of being yelled at by my dad for making us miss an exit).

Crossing the border was painless and free of the "random check" that stuck my family in a customs office with another Indian family, and a group of Hispanic people last year on a trip to Chicago.

(Really, it's the Arabs that you're looking for! If you're going to racially profile people, do it right.)

Anyways from there we made a stop in East Amherst, New York, which is a suburb of Buffalo.

There really is no good reason to do this of course. Except for....Cracker Barrel!...which is a pretty shitty reason in itself.

The "Cracker Barrel Old Country Store", is an American restaurant chain that serves pretty a good all day breakfast, old lady merchandise, and a good helping of racism.

We always stop by there everytime we're in the states for some reason, and I usually never feel comfortable there. The store has a sign professing that they're not racist on the front door, which isn't really reassuring. I mean, any establishment that feels like it has to do that, well, they must not have a good history.

And they don't: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cracker_Barrel

Anyways the food was decent, and we weren't discriminated against. So we moved on from there, delving deeper into the mysterious land that is the United States, straight to New Jersey.

The ride was uneventful for a while. My sister and I resorted to playing games. Such as counting how many times my Dad did or said something that made us think he was gay (which we think he just might be). An example would be the time he professed his love of the divas of music with my sister on the drive down.

By the end of the trip we got to 14.

Anyways it was a pretty boring drive until we got to the highlight of the trip at that point: A Drive through Scranton, Pennsylvania!

Cue the theme from "The Office"

Why was it so exciting?

Because Scranton is the setting for one of my sister's and one of my favourite shows, The Office.

Frankly, I don't know why we were so excited, all we could see was a large waste management plant and few other buildings.

And as soon as it started, it was over. But at least I could say I was in the same city as Jim, Pam, Dwight and the others, for about two minutes.

And from there it was about two to three hours until we made it to our destination, Parisppany, New Jersey!

Where is Parsippany you ask?

Well I don't know. It's on this highway, stuck between two other suburbs. Hell it doesn't even have a Starbucks.

We stayed at the "Courtyard By Marriott", which I'd reccommend for their free hot chocolate and unsupervised pool.

The room itself was nice, and if there's one thing that's good about lazy cleaning staff, it's free stuff that's left behind by other people.

See this soccer ball, kid who left it behind? It's mine now. Don't try and get it back. It. Is. Mine.

Finders Keepers, bitch.

Anyways the first night went by quickly, and then it was wedding time!

The wedding was outside, and it was hot, so a lot of people didn't really watch and went inside the Banquet Hall.

Which is where we first met Professor von Amazing a.k.a. the Turbinator.

He was a tall Punjabi guy who was in charge of the hall. And boy was he in charge.

His micromanagement style was pretty entertaining to watch. Much moreso than the wedding. Watching him stoop over tables, berate the sno-cone guy (yea there was a snocone guy), and wipe a smudge off a pot made our lives worth living.

Which is a vast understatement.

The reception was pretty good as well, with a kickass dessert table. The real fun part about it was watching a bunch of old conservative Indian men and women try to dance to songs like "Gasolina" and "Hips Don't Lie".

Awkward? Hell yea. Hilarious? Yes.

Anyways after the reception, we all went to the unofficial after party location: the Hilton in Parsippany.

After entering the hotel we (my sister, a friend, and I) spotted this:

Another Indian wedding reception!

We were dressed correctly, which meant one thing...we were going to crash it!

And crash it we did.

We were on the bride's side.

The DJ was good, but the desserts were not as good as those at the wedding we went to....by which I mean the wedding we were invited to.

We left after a bit, and were offered the gifts they sent the guests away with.

The next day we began our long trip home.

I was waiting for this day because the reason I really went on the trip was coming up. A trip to my favourite Mexican restaurant Don Pablo's which is back in East Amherst, that suburb of Buffalo.

I was so excited, I didn't eat.

Anyways, we got to the location annnnddddd.....

It was a fucking Chili's now.

One of the big reasons I went, the thing I had been craving and waiting for...was a goddamn Chili's now.

We tooled around East Amherst and found another Mexican restaurant, which thankfully, offered deliciousness.

The trip then moved across the road to the Top's Friendly Markets, a local grocery store.

Now you see, America is different, scary place. We passed in front of a church in New Jersey with a fucking wooden missle made by kids in front of it that had : "Kids-Son Power" on it. One of the more fucked up things we saw on the trip.

But not all the differences are weird and scary. The grocery store in the states is a haven of magical foods you can't get back up in Canada. I went in to get a box of the elusive cereal Cookie Crisp which is not available up here.

I was planning to get only that, but then I saw:

Where the fuck are his fangs? You can't suck blood with buck teeth.

Frankly I had never seen another cereal box like it. It's almost one of a kind. I just loved the...sepia toned glamour shot (?) of Count Chocula.

Look at him. Staring, laughing, blood lust-ing at you.

I'm not going to lie, the box and his visage entranced me. You can't beat it. So I had to have it. It was so fucking weird, but awesome.

Not to mention the cereal itself, a Chocolately Cereal with "Spookyfun" Marshmallows.

Spookyfun? More like fucking delicious.

Now I don't know what spookyfun means when related to food, but I'm just glad I had the chance to own this box. And eat the cereal too.

And that my friends, was the highlight of my trip.

Another two hours and we were back in Markham. I had a stomach full of Mexican food, and my two precious (if I see you near them, I will hurt you) boxes of cereal.

All in all it was a good trip, there was food, family, and another wedding to crash.

But most of all I have my precious Cookie Crisp, and my seductive Count Chocula box.

And that brings to a close, my first International Adventure.

If I Were a Trillionaire

By Sameer Rawal

Let’s just say I become a trillionaire somehow. I don’t know how, but lets say it happens. What is the first thing I’d do with the money?

Donate to charity? No.

Give some money to you? Fuck no.

Convert it to dollar bills and go SCUBA diving in it? Maybe.

No. The first thing I’d do with the money is buy me this:

Now that's a fucking castle.

Neuschwanstein Castle. Now I’d probably have to put up a cool 10 billion or something. But I’m a goddamn trillionaire, so whatever. This is what a castle should look like. Not like those bullshit “real” castles with their stone fortifications, keeps, and crap like that.

I want my own personal Hogwarts, and this fits the bill.

But would I open up its walls to special wizard kids and orphans?

No. Quite the contrary. I’ma build a wall that encircles the surrounding area of my huge fucking castle. I’m gonna get some farms built, and then make the surrounding residents serfs and peasants.

You know, go all feudal system on their ass. What’re they gonna do? I’m the trillionaire.

So with that set up, it would be time to squander the rest of my trillion dollars.

I would then buy the New England Patriots, the New York Yankees, and the Anaheim Ducks.

I’d fly them over to my castle, and build them each a respective stadium. I’d then make them play each other for my own amusement. Like the Ducks and Yankees would play the Patriots in football, and the Yankees would play the Ducks in ice hockey and etc.

That would be some funny shit.

And in the meantime, they’d serve as some sort of personal army for me.

Next I’d buy me Microsoft, and like a small country or two. Just cause I can.

Then I’d invite the Queen over for lunch. And gloat to her about how much better my castle is than hers. I’d offer to buy her a new castle, joke about how poor she is, and then send her off on her way.

I would then buy Buckingham Palace. Just to show her I can. But I’d let her live in it, cause I’m nice like that.

After some time of limited activity, I’d invite MTV Cribs to my gigantic fucking castle. It would be like a three hours long two-part episode. I’d probably get tired narrating and hosting it, so I’d get one of my pro football guys I own to do it.

So after this I’d assume I have like 700 billion dollars left.

So I’d buy out Bill Gates and the Sultan of Brunei, and make them my butlers. And I’d also make Tiger Woods my personal caddy.

And I don’t even play golf.

So what would I do with the rest of the money?

Buy lottery tickets.

A lot of them.

Like 550 billion dollars worth of them.

I’d totally win for sure.

And that would be my greatest investment ever. Period.

Except for my gigantic fucking castle.

The Anatomy of an All-Nighter: English Essay 07

It was Saturday, and I was going to get it done.

Partly because it was due Monday.

Mostly it was ‘cause I wanted the motherfucker done.And writing an essay during primetime Sunday television? Don’t be ridiculous.

I already had the introductory paragraph drawn up, so I had about a 340 word head start.And this is how it went.

Saturday:

2:30 pm- Wake up. Yea, I know it’s late. Don’t fucking judge me!

3:00 pm- Head to my basement. Which is like my office. Turn on the TV, fire up my laptop. LET’S GET THIS DONE! I’m going to like finish this by 5:30!

5:30 pm- Finally get to it. God that introduction is awful, I’ll tweak that. The Simpsons is on in the background. It’s the trillion dollar bill episode. This one kicks ass.

6:00 pm- Yea, so I came into this thinking I knew what satire was. I’m not so sure I do know what it is anymore…450 words. Still in the introduction and not at my thesis yet. TV is still on.

6:30 pm- I take the first of many “mini breaks”. Like a 2 minute break from writing and stuff.

6:45 pm- Mini break over. Boy 15 minutes goes by fast. I also have my first coffee of the night. And by coffee, I mean 1% milk, some Nescafe, and a lot of sugar.Real coffee drinkers would call it “weak ass shit”.

7:00 pm- Leafs game and NBA All Star Skills Competition on. This does not bode well for me. I’m also on MSN. I know it’s wrong, but it feels so right.

7:20 pm- Well, I’m making some progress, yet still not at my thesis and I’m at like 500 words. At this pace the essay is going to be about 4000 words, and I’ll be done at like 11 pm. I like this estimate.

7:21 pm- I’m probably wrong.

7:30 pm- Thesis ahoy! After 550 words. And the TV begins its relentless campaign to gain all of my attention. It’s probably going to win; I’m not going to lie.

8:00 pm- I have my second “coffee”. I’ve been plodding away steadily at this now. I kind of feel good, but I know if I worked harder, I could’ve been half done by now. Eh, fuck that.Leafs game and All Star Skills still on in the background. And I’m still on MSN. Sue me!

8:12 pm- Well I’m into my first topic. And I’ve pretty much forgotten everything about my books. Who the hell is “Arthur Dent”?God I hope my English teacher never finds this.

8:45 pm- Boy this game of “hockey” is quite entertaining. I see a bright future for it.

9:00 pm- I eat for the last time for a while. I’m done the introduction for my first topic. I’ve just realized essay writing is fucking boring. I did not see that coming. 650 words.

9:23 pm- So like, I have to prove this thesis of mine eh? Ah man. Not. Good. Again, this would’ve been much easier if I remembered my books. I’m pretty sure that’s my fault. Fuck me.

9:30 pm- Progressing on my first topic. Halfway done in fact! About 750 words right now. Dude I’ll Totally be done in 3 hours!

9:31pm- No I won’t.

9:50 pm- Sundin and Raycroft ice it. The Leafs game is over. Well that’s one big distraction gone. Onto the third part of my first topic. About 820 words. All Star Skills still on in the background.

9:55 pm – You’d think an entire report on satire would be funny. Not so. Which is kinda depressing actually. This world of ours is cruel.

10:15 pm- Hey look! It’s 10:15! Time to take an undeserved break!

10:25 pm- The NBA All Star Skills competition is basically all that matters to me in the world right now. That and MSN.

10:30 pm – OH SHIT! Penn and Teller just gave away the secret to a trick to a large TV Audience! THEY BROKE THE MAGICIANS CODE! THEY ARE DEAD!As for the essay…What essay?

10:50 pm- Talking about the dunk competition with Eddie on the messenger. Dwight Howard just stuck a sticker of his face on the backboard! That is awesome! I gotta start doing that!

Make a save? Sticker on the puck!

Beat someone at Madden? Sticker on their face!

Get a calc question right? STICKER ON THE BLACKBOARD!

11:30 pm- All Star stuff over. Back to essay. I’ll put SNL on in the background. That’ll get me back to work! I’m also still on MSN.I’m pretty sure these factors will add up to a long night.

11:45 pm- Done the first topic! And that only took about 5 hours! So according to my calculations, I’ll be done at 10 a.m. . Right…. Lets try and change that.

SUNDAY:

12:00 am- Progress is being made at a more rapid pace. I got a good start on my second topic. About 1100 words right now. If words were money…I’d be moderately wealthy for an unemployed teenager.

12:25 am- Wow, so I just wrote “….is the main beef between…” in my essay. Again, this does not bode well for me. I’m at 1300 words right now.SNL and MSN still going on in the background.

12:45 am- I’m tired, but I power through, breaking through some invisible barrier in my mind, and feel refreshed.Which is a good thing, since this is gonna take much longer.

1:00 am- Halfway through my second topic, Nearing 2000 words. Now I’m really wishing words were money. Oh and I’m still on MSN. You’d think I’d learn by now, but….no.

1:23 am- Now you see, I’m starting to believe my rapid progress is not because of a better work ethic, but rather, I’m just getting lazy.

1:30 am- I can’t find anything on TV. I’m just going to stick the west coast feed of SNL on. Dude. I’m not even joking.

1:45am- Towards the end of my second topic, and I’m at about 2200 words. Sentences and stuff are starting to get like, less coherent, and like, stuff?Nobody is on MSN right now, so that’s out right now.

2:00 am- I start thinking that writing an essay like this may be irresponsible. But it worked for my gr. 10 history essay, so ….yea there’s precedent…bitch.

2:05 am- And all rational thought ceases.

2:06 am – It’s like I’m typing, but I don’t know what’s going on. Words just appear on the screen, and on further inspection, kinda work, and make a point…barely. It looks like I’m probably rewriting a lot of this before I hand in that good copy.

2:07 am- Aw fuck. I just spotted a rather large error in my second topic. And I guess I’m correcting it now. Damnit!

2:34 am- So yea, I’m basically re-writing my second topic I just finished. God I wish I hadn’t noticed that mistake. I mean, if I can’t see it, it’s not there!

3:00 am- That repeat of the SNL I had just watched has finished. Luckily for me the Simpsons and South Park are on at this hour. Rockin’!And hey check it out! Anne is on MSN! Awesome, some “company”.

3:15 am- They see me rollin’ , they hatin’, patrollin’ and tryin’ to catch me ridin’ dirty.

3:16 am – My music so loud, I’m swingin’, they hopin’ they gon’ catch me ridin’ dirty.

3:27 am - I finally fix that huge mistake (and I honestly cannot remember what it is anymore), and I can start that third topic again. I’m at 2200 words again. I don’t understand how I am writing this right now.

I actually don’t understand much right now. WHERE DID THE SUN GO?!?!?

I challenge Anne to see who can finish their essay first. She has much less that I have done, and I’m 2/3 of the way through mine. This will be interesting.

3:33 am- HIBACHI!

3:45 am- I browse channels again, and after many infomercials, I find something. A movie called “Little Big League” .It’s like “Rookie of the Year”, ‘cept slightly less heartwarming. Still it’s pretty awesome right now.HAHAHA! The kid is 12 and he’s managing the Minnesota Twins!I’m also progressing on the third topic of my essay. 2400 words. Awwww yeeeaaaa.

4:03 am- I think I just felt my facial hair grow…

4:15 am- Anything is funny right now. A very sad commercial for a news report came on and I laughed. I am a horrible person.

4:23 am- Speaking of commercials, they all also seem funnier now. And at least 1 in every three commercials is for a "party line" toll phone number thing.

4:30 am- So yea, I’m about a third of the way through my last topic right now. And Anne has made rapid progress on me. Not good.Good for her though.

4:45 am- Aw man, that kid in "Little Big League" had to cut his favourite player. Damn that sucks. “Is my wife supposed to be happy that I’m your favourite player!? I’ve been cut, man what am I gonna tell her!”I think I got some dirt in my eyes guys…It’s just some dirt, I’m not like crying or anything…

5:15 am-

My Brain: “Technically you have school tomorrow, AND this is due tomorrow”

Me: “Fuck you.”

5:22 am- As you can tell, I’m just arbitrarily making up times now.

5:35 am- 2800 words…which means I’m “done” my third and final topic. Anne just finished her essay, which should offer sufficient contrast to whatever the fuck I'm doing. And AGAIN I choke in a contest. Fuck man, I’m not clutch at all.

5:43 am- I’m pretty sure, and this is just an inference…that last two thirds or so of this essay is rife with grammatical errors, and is utter bullshit. But hey, that’s what a rough copy is for!

5:50 am- Damn you Ken Griffey Junior! Damn you! Damn you for stealing the playoffs away from that Little Big League kid’s team. He worked so hard!

6:00 am- Putting the final touches on a rushed conclusion. It’s 6:00 am. My god. It’s like Wake-A-Thon, but like, instead of having fun, I wrote an essay during it.

6:03 am- So like…yea, whoa. I should write an essay about this experience, or make a movie about it...THIS IS FUCKIN EPIC!

6:15 am- 3000 words, and my essay is done! Except it’s a rough copy rife with errors and shit that needs to be fixed.Also, my mom gets up.

6:25 am- I stagger upstairs. The sun is rising, I don’t even need a light. Dude, I feel like a vampire or something.

And after 3044 words and like 14 hours, I go to sleep.

So that's the story of my all-nighter. But hey, at least I went to sleep knowing I'd "accomplished" something.

And If I had the choice? No I wouldn't do it again.

That would be stupid. I'd much rather finish it early over a few days.

Is it going to happen again?

Probably, yea.

Why I Should Win the Nobel Peace Prize (1st Bluezine Article)

I’m not one to brag, but this year I definitely deserve the Nobel Peace Prize. Take a look at the news headlines from this past year. How many times do you hear about me starting a war?..My point exactly.

Now I haven’t been really out there “making” peace or “making” the world a “better place”, but that’s not my style. I like to lead by example. In the past year, I haven’t started an armed conflict, participated in one, or fueled one with money or inflammatory rhetoric. In fact, I haven’t done that in the past three to four years. I’ve just sat back here in Markham and went about my placid ways, showing the rest of the world what peace is all about.

But apparently nobody is watching because there’s still war, and I haven’t been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize yet.So this year I’ve stepped it up. I continued along with my policy of leading by example, and again this year I haven’t had anything to do with armed conflict.

However, I’ve made some changes.

One thing I’ve done is stopped watching war movies. How can I be truly peaceful if I entertain myself by watching war? I’ve also boycotted anything to do with war, including the Nobel Prizes. I mean really, how can I be a shining beacon of peace if I support an institution founded by the guy who invented dynamite?I can’t be, and that’s why I’ve made these two rather dramatic changes for this year.

I’ve also thrown away my old G.I. Joe action figures.And that my friends, is why I should win the Nobel Peace Prize.



*Sameer Rawal is a grade 12 student at Markham District High School. If you know anybody on the Nobel Prize committee, give him a shout.*

And it goes live.

I'ma gonna dump some of the stuff I write for my facebook notes onto this website here, so people I know who don't have facebook can get to them.

If you have facebook and know me, the same stuff is up on the "notes" section of my profile.

I'll start it off with two or three of the ones I liked best from my facebook notes. Then for everything new I write, I'll post a copy up here and on the facebook.

Unless it has a lot of paragraphs, cause the line spaces don't translate to the blogger input. So fuck that.

Peace out.