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Saturday, 3 November 2012

Are you sick of Movember yet?

Hey everyone!

OK, so I have a question for you?  Well if you read the title, I think maybe you might already have the question.

If not, read the title.  I mean really, you haven't scrolled down too far yet...  Odds are you can just look up.  Of course if your resolution is horrible, maybe I should just restate it.  Are you sick of Movember yet?

With 'staches this awesome?  I don't think so.
Before we go any further, let me be straight with you.  I am a full supporter of Movember, and will shamelessly plug my page:  (http://mobro.co/mrclaus)  Movember is a great cause.  For all you aren't aware, or just wonder why there's so many more hairy lips this month, I'll give you a brief explanation.  In the month of Movember, all participants in the 'Mo Movement' shave themselves clean on November 1st, and grow whatever they can on their upper lip for the month.  This is men's answer to the 'Pink Ribbon' campaign promoting awareness of breast cancer.  However, the 'Hair Ribbon' is to promote awareness of prostate cancer and men's health issues.  Now the more ambitious of the growers actively try and raise money as well.  I am ambitious.  That's why I'm hoping you'll click on my link and donate anything.  I'll take a nickle if you are willing.  Donations over $20 will get a tax receipt.  Larger donations will earn you my affections and favours.  That's right...  I have no problem whoring out my dignity out for this charity.  Simply make the request, and the proposed donation to me, and I will probably do it.  A good example of this is the now infamous blue moustache of 2011. Yep, it's on YouTube and my Facebook.  Search 'Blue Moustache' in YouTube, and you'll find my smilling visage:  Or just watch it here...

So for $40 dollars I was asked to mascara my mo for a day.  (As a dirty blonde my 'stache is a little hard to see in the beginning, or in the end for that matter.)  So after being mocked all month long, my friend Maggie at work and my sister offered a donation to dye it for the day.  And doubled it if I were to dye it blue.

One fine looking moustache!
So the blue moustache was born.  And I looked pretty fine if I do say so myself.  I don't have any requests yet this year...  But I am 100% open.  Leave me a comment, or message on my donation page.  Did I mention the address?  (http://mobro.co/mrclaus) But friends, I didn't ask you here to plug my efforts this year.  (Although please, please, please, donate.)  I came here on the premise to talk about people being sick of Movember.

Lately I've been hearing grumblings that Movember has lost it's meaning.  That now it's just a bunch of kids, growing moustaches because it's the thing to do, not because they want to raise awareness or money for the cause.  I guess that's pretty fair.  I kind of felt that way last year by the end as well.  When I started doing this 6 years ago no-one had really heard of it.  I had to explain to everyone why I all of the sudden looked like Freddie Mercury's chubbier cousin?  The next year, I got a few friends to join me.  The year after that, a few more...  but there were still holdouts telling me that they'd prefer NOT to look like pedophiles.  Thank you.
OK, so searching for a picture of pedophines in Google Images is grim.  Don't do it.


As we went, though more and more people joined in, and in fact record numbers of money are raised every year through the initiative as record people join in.  Having said that though as things become mainstream and commercialized, they lose their meaning.  People are doing it to be part of the crowd.  Cool factor is lost as people join.  To paraphrase Naomi Klien...  Once something hits the mall, it's not longer cool.  You can definetly buy 'Movember' t-shirts at the mall.

So if it's not cool and it's been over played....  Then people must be starting to get sick of it.  I've been hearing rumblings of it from several sources, and I understand.

You know who's not getting sick of it though?  Victims of cancer.  Anything we can do to help them is worth it.  Even if only 1% of the people are actively raising money.

This year I took it a step further...  I shaved my head for the cause, because I wanted to show this was about more than growing a Mo to join the crowd.  A lot of people who get prostrate cancer lose their hair.  I could too.  A small price to pay to get people to realize this isn't just a bunch of douche bags getting together to annoy women with scratchy kisses for a month.  This isn't about fitting in with the crowd.  This is about helping those who need it, and stamping out a disease which will kill 1 in 36 men.  After I shaved my head and posted it on Facebook, I got this comment...



You know?  I'm not sick of Movember after all.

Please donate:  mobro.co/mrclaus





Saturday, 13 October 2012

Matt Sells Out

Well hello everyone, and welcome to this instalment of the Meandering Mind of Matt.  Well, I've decided to put my money where my mouth is and sell out.  I've always really felt that Capitalism is the most effective means of innovation.  Greed simply is the best way to drive forth innovation and society, and if I can put the interests of corporations over that of humans perhaps then I can finally afford one of those sweet Lamborghini's I've wanted since high school.

Gorgeous and environmentally friendly
So to this point I've been giving away my thoughts for free, but that's not paying the bills.  Well except the thoughts that I get paid for at work, but those aren't nearly as fun as these ones are, so it's time for me to start getting paid for doing this as well.  So to that end, I have signed up to be a shill for Google AdSense.  Look over to the right...  You see those ads over there?  Those are there courtesy of AdSense.  So essentially what happens is AdSense reads my blog, picks out key words from my blog, and then chooses ads for corporations who seem to share my thoughts and brand ideas.  They then post ads next to my blog for said corporations and I get paid.

So for instance, if I were to mention SWEATY DONKEY BALLS in my blog, in theory I should get ads for something which endorses donkey balls.  For surely there could be no corporations that would do that right?


Oh....
Of course, I don't just get paid for having the ads there.  For me to make money, I actually have to have people click on the ads.  So that's right, if you haven't clicked on an ad yet, your sitting there freeloading of my words and thoughts. 


This is you eating my brain non ad-clickers!
Of course, having said that, one of the rules of being on AdSense that that I can't actually tell you to click the ads.  For some reason they feel like that's cheating.  People who click the ads, have to do so on their own free will.  So PLEASE do not click on the ads unless it something that you want to do without my influence.  The only thing I can do is help you along is type words in that will pull up ads that you actually want to click on.

FREE ROCK CONCERT TICKETS!
FREE VIDEO GAMES!
FREE SHOES!
BOOBS!  LOTS OF BOOBS!!!

Boy, do I know my demographics.  Well, at the very least I know that most of my friends will like one of things on the above list.  And I put shoes on there, because women love shoes right?  Ummm, OK, I'll admit it, I still don't understand women. 

Another me?  I'm a little scared.
So as well, I'm not allowed to click on the ads myself, not even to test them out.  That hardly seems fair does it?  I mean I guess they don't want me padding my clicks and thinking that I'm going to buy the things the ads bring up.  Which doesn't really seem fair does it?  I mean what if some awesome ad for a free video game concert surrounded by boobs comes up?  I'm not allowed to click it!  Someone else had better type that in as well, and I can find their blog I suppose.  Of course I don't know too many people that have the same thoughts as me.  Or at least any that have a forum like this where they dare share them.

So having said that...  I feel  a little like Wayne giving it up for the choice of a new generation.

Yeah Baby, Yeah!

Although brilliant satire, Pepsi Co. paid a lot to have that scene put in the movie.  So Wayne making fun of sell-outs by selling out.  How does one do this without being a hypocrite?  It's simple, one embraces the devil, and accepts that corporations are our overlords.  Some have a good sense of humour perhaps, but all own us, and as soon as we can accept that, the sooner we can start to enjoy our lives of captivity.

Support 3rd world industry at ridiculously low prices
I mean lets face facts, we live in a consumer world, and the only way its going to work is if corporations can give us consumers what we are looking for.  The most effective way of doing this is advertising.  And in this day of PVRs allowing us to skip commercials, and downloaded Internet TV shows, advertising agencies need to adapt from there traditional ways.  I'm pretty sure my blog can be that way.  Who cares if I don't personally endorse some of the business practises of the corporations right?  I mean I can be a vessel for them to send their message across without supporting child labour right?  Michael Jordan is an ambassador for the sport of basketball, a stand up member of the community, a pillar of society.  Nike is not known for their fair treatment of their workers.  In fact, the word sweat shop often comes up when talking about the manufacturing of the swoosh shoe.

Michael Jordan isn't evil right?
Ummmm....  Nuts.
Okay....  I'm having a little bit of an issue here.  I'm really trying to justify putting these ads on my blog, but I don't know that I can in good conscious...  What if my ironic commentary starts to bring ironic t-shirt ads?  Then what if hipsters start flooding to my website, leaving comments about the 'Sleigh Bells' (You haven't heard of them.) and copying my style, yet again.   That's right, I was geek before they were hipsters.  What posers.

Oh, one last rule, I have to keep things clean and non-controversial.  I mean, insulting Google AdSense, Wal*Mart, Pepsi, Mike Myers, Michael Jordan, The Sleigh Bells, Hipsters, Donkey Balls and that crazy kitten can't be all that bad.  However, I could have my ads pulled if they don't like what I have to say.  Worst case scenario, they could possibly censor me.

Will I be punished by Ad-Sense?
I refuse to be censored!  If they even try, I'm going to BE super mad!  I absolutely refuse to abide by their rules!!!  I am my own person,and my thoughts are my own.  If they try to shut me up, I will politely refuse, and then continue writing.  But I'm sure that would never happen.

So in conclusion, please don't click on the ads because I told you to, click on them because you too want to sell out to the corporate overlords.  Buy things and make the economy work.  Support things, and not humanity.  And above all, don't think of selling out as a bad thing.  Think of it as understanding that the world works better if we all work together and stop being individuals and obey those who know best.  Like me...

Absolutely hilarious censored caption goes here.




Tuesday, 11 September 2012

The Sunwing Fiasco

So this wasn't my vacation, but recent research has shown
that boobs as my title picture earns more hits! 
So I'm USUALLY a pretty happy go lucky guy.  Very much go with the flow, enjoy where life takes you, <insert your own inspirational cliche here.>, type dude who doesn't get rattled very easily. 

Often, you'll find me smiling, and high fiving people for fun, and complimenting others on how awesome they are too!  (Yes I know what the 'too' implies, and I'm good with my conceitedness.)

This means Mattie is about to explode...
However if you see me overly happy, like singing 'Sharon Lois and Bram' songs when I have no earth reason to be doing so, that might be a warning.  I don't know why 'Skinamarinky Dinky Dink' is such a good anger release for me, but it really works.  Usually accompanied by a large grin on my face etched on in stone, and a crazed look in my eyes.  This means I'm upset.  (Or possibly I just had an orgasm...  Only I know the difference.) 

Anyhow, I'm going to tell you a tale of a little company called Sunwing, and how they ruined one day of my life.  But as with anything crazy fiasco, I came out with a reasonably good story, so it's all worth it.  Plus my 'Elephant Song' skills got so well practiced, Bram had better watch out.

So...  Last year in July I decided to take a trip to Rome.  I was flying solo as I had been having considerable personal issues, and decided I needed to get away to sort my head out.  I had always wanted to go to Rome, and had the opportunity, so I jumped on it.  (I was told afterwards it was kind of the plot of 'Eat, Pray, Love', but that is not near manly enough, so I will call it 'Rambo goes to Italy').

Maybe my worst photoshop ever.

So I booked a do-it-yourself vacation through the Flight Centre at Limeridge through a kind of cute Italian girl.  She set me up with a hotel, a flight, an assurance that I could take the train from the airport to downtown Rome, and get a quick subway to my hotel with ease, and her phone number.  Well, it might have been a phone number to the Flight Centre, but at my age you take what you can get.  (On a side note, she just emailed me the other day saying she hadn't seen me in a while.  And uh... that she had some great deals to Spain.)  All was set, I was good to go for a weeks vacation in the Eternal City.

This bear represents my level of stress at the beginning of my trip...



Now when you fly from Toronto to Rome, you should know it is about a 8-9 hour flight.  With the time change, I set my flight to leave at 10pm so I could arrive in Rome in the early afternoon and have the evening to explore.  I arrived at the airport early, and had a lovely dinner with my parents who dropped me off.  Calmly meandered through security, laughing at those dopes who were stressed out and late for their flights, generally being in total vacation mode and not having a care in the world!  I found my way down to the gate I was leaving from, checked that the flight was Sunwing Toronto to Rome, and then settled in at the bar to get a beer.  (Tuborg if I recall correctly.) After a couple of pops and a pleasant chat with the bartender, I wandered back to my gate with about an hour until flight time.  (About 9 pm.)

I found it a little odd that they hadn't started the boarding procedures yet, making announcements, getting the old farts and people who need a little extra time lined up and the like, but stress was not a word in my vocabulary.  I updated my facebook, smiled at the woman sitting across from me, and pulled out my airplane novel.  (I always bring a book to read on planes.)  If I'd been paying attention, I'd have noticed that the sign changed from On-Time to Delayed.  I wasn't. 

9:45 rolled around and finally they started making announcements.  (Really late for this sort of thing in my opinion, but at least things were moving.)  First off they apologized for the delay, but they were having technical difficulties and that the flight was to be delayed for 3 hours, and would be leaving at 1 am.  However, for our inconvenience we were more than welcome to help ourselves to a $10 food voucher to get a bite to eat while waiting.  There were upset to angry level groans from all the passengers waiting in the lounge, and that pleasant lady sitting across from me slapped her leg in disgust so audibly people turned their heads to look.  I suspect she got a bruise.  I myself, being Mr. non-stress,  decided that's OK.  I'd rather they fix the plane then put us on defective flight.
OMG I HAVE TO BE FIRST IN LINE!!!!

While the rest the passengers rushed the clerks at the desk for their coupons, I sat back and read my book a little more.  Hell I knew I was going to be there for 3 more hours at least, no rush, the restaurants aren't going anywhere.  Although the relative level of stress was going up in the room, and that will rub off on anyone.  I did the math and figured that I'd arrive in Rome around 6, which meant my evening stroll was out, but I could still hit some nightlife perhaps.  C'est la vie...  I smiled to myself, not quite a Sharon, Lois and Bram level smile, but the beginning of less than perfect.  After the crowd had left, I wandered up and got my voucher.  The clerk apologized profusely...  I told him not to worry about it, these things happen, thanked him and gave him a winning smile.  He looked visibly relieved.  I'd guess the last 50 people told him where to go, how to get there, and several options of things he could do when he arrived.

Canadian medical system at it's best.
I wandered back over to the bar, sat down at my seat, and looked at the crazy lineup at the grill.  No way I was going in that thing, another beer is just what the doctor ordered.  I asked my bartender who looked a little frazzled after this sudden unexpected rush if my coupon was good for Tuborg, and he explained calmly that it wasn't.  Not completely unexpected, so I ponied up the cash, settled down at the bar, and took a sip of that icy cold joy.  A brief conversation with my barkeep let me know that he was supposed to close down at 11:00, and now at 10:30 and a lineup to the grill part out the door, there was no way that was happening.  I empathized with him, and let him know he was appreciated.  He laughed and told me that I'd better get some food if I wanted some, as the grill closing at 11 thing might happen if I wanted it too or not, and then my coupon would be for not.  I looked over at the sandwich rack, and saw $10 worth of airport sushi, and asked him if I could pay him for that instead.  He said no problem, so I gave him the coupon, a tip and the last of my Canadian funds for one last beer and enjoyed my meal surrounded by angry vacationers, the smile on my face now locked into place, humming quietly to myself.

So midnight rolls around, and most people got fed and started grumbling and shuffling back to the gate.  Sure this was a pain, but at least we'd be boarding soon and getting on our way.  I strolled back, a little worse for wear, but ultimately still in an OK mood, and sat down on a bench and pulled my book out again.  The delayed until 1 am sign was still prominently displayed on the board, so everything was still status quo.  The clerks were still busy fielding questions from angry customers, but I suppose that was to be a little expected.

Average crowd reaction
Then the loudspeaker sounded again.  I smiled waiting for the soothing sounds of 'We will begin boarding...'.  I was disappointed.  Once again the words poured from the speakers....  "We'd like to apologize."  The crowd groaned worse than before, I wondered if slappy leg lady just punched her husband in the face.  "The flight from Toronto to Rome has once again been delayed and will postponed until 10 am tomorrow morning.  Please return to Terminal 1 at 7am tomorrow morning to get your new ticket and arrive through security.  Those customers who need accommodations for the night please see the clerks."  Or something like that anyway.  There were shouts of discontent and outright anger from the customers, and the mob swarmed the desk of the two unfortunate Sunwing employees who were scheduled to be there with no direction from management who I am sure were sleeping snuggly in their beds made of our money.

One of them asked us loudly to please be calm, while some customer were literally screaming at them.  They had to call the police, which may have been a bit of an over-reaction, but honestly I'm pretty sure one fellow was ready to get into fisticuffs with them.

I sat back on the bench knowing that I didn't want to get to the front of that line.  I had no car, and the drive back to my home was about an hour, so I figured they'd put me into a hotel for the night, so I could at least get a couple hours sleep, and get to Rome about...  2am?  GOD DAMN IT!!!!  Now I've lost a day in Rome because of mother f***'n Sunwing's incompetence.   I mean get a replacement plane in or something.  Then I calmed down.  This sucked, but ultimately it still could have been a lot worse.  Besides, I got a live version of Cops happening right in front of me, and Yelly McYellerson was about to get arrested.  (He didn't, for some reason the spectre of a large peace officer seemed to calm him down two pegs.)  I continued to Facebook the whole experience.  Take a look at my timeline in July 2011 for the full as it happened details.

#Occupy Sunwing
So everyone went up to the desk to get their hotel accommodations, or they were offering limos to those who lived close by.  By my math, if I took the limo, I'd likely get out of the airport by 1:30 to 2, be back in Hamilton by 3, sleep for 2 hours, get up and come back.  That sounded awful, so I figured I'd go for the hotel, and get 4 hours sleep.  I wandered over to the back of the line, and heard mumblings that since it was so late there were no hotel rooms left.  Figuring that the grapevine is usually correct, I started softly singing under my breath...  "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" and formed a plan on how to handle this.  I got up to the desk and smiled at the clerk who was a little more frazzled than before.  He apologized like he had said it about 500 too many times, and asked if I needed a ride.

Now that's comfort!
I explained my situation, and that a hotel room would be much more suitable for my needs.  His face dropped, and launched into a speech he had also said more that a few times. "I apologize, but we are out of hotel rooms, and we need to reserve them for people who are out of limo range...  etc.)  I said, I understood and then did some math for him.  A limo ride from Toronto to Hamilton runs about $150 each way.  That's $300 Sunwing would have to pay so I could get 2 hours sleep.  How about instead, you give me a $20 coupon for breakfast in the morning, and I'd be happy to curl up in the lounge here for the night, and at least get a little sleep.  He looked at me like I just spoke some sort of crazy moon man language.

"I'm sorry sir we can't do that.  We can get you a limo if you like."  So I again asked if Sunwing was aware that $300 was a lot more than $20, and that this was totally OK with me to be compensated less.  He said again, he was sorry, that he didn't have the power to make that decision.  So I shrugged, said OK, and took my limo voucher.

Airport Security:  Ignoring logic since 2001
Smile glued to my face, singing to myself I started walking back through Terminal to where you the limos are, I spotted a Police Officer leaving as well, so I walked over to him and said hi.  He wondered why I looked so happy, and I explained, I was chalking this up to "Shit Happens" and I could either scream or laugh at how stupid the whole situation was, so I might as well laugh for all the good it would do me.  He told me that was a pretty good attitude and we started chatting while walking to the exit/entrance.  On the way a whole bunch of my fellow passengers came up to him, and explained they had been rebuffed by security because you can't go through security the wrong way.  The officer laughed, and then led us like Moses through the Red Sea of red tape, and delivered us to the limos.  Luckily since I had waiting until the line had died down, I didn't have to wait very long for my ride.  I hopped in and said take me to Hamilton and asked if he had a Raffi tape we could listen to.  I also asked if he wanted to hang out at Tim Hortons for a couple hours and bring me back to the airport, because, really what was the point of going to bed.  It was the end of his shift, so he politely declined the weirdo who wouldn't stop smiling and sang childish songs.

He did however have a limo sent to me at 5:30 am, and dropped me off at home two get my two hours sleep and a Cappuccino made in my Tassimo.  That was as close to Italy as I got that day.

Day 2:

OK bear with me, I know this has been a long story so far, but it's almost over.  I just want to let you know how Sunwing  handled the next morning.
All rainbows!!!

So I got back into my limo, and arrived at the airport at 6:45. Smile still etched on my face, I made my way up to the ticket counter and approached the young lady working the check-in.  I explained that I was one of the happy customers who's flight to Italy was delayed, and who was asked to come back in this morning to continue my amazing adventure.

Her face went gravely serious, and she looked me straight in the eye and said...

"I'm sorry sir, that flight already left."

My reaction

Then she smiled again, and said:

"Oh I'm only kidding, but it did change gates, here let me get you a new boarding pass."

I'm not sure how many times she told that to people that morning, but I'm surprised slappy leg lady didn't get put up on murder charges.  All in all, it was pretty damn hilarious, but wow!  That's some balls.  (Also the fact that she was quite good looking helped.)

Anyhow, I'll save the rest of the details, but I got through security, paid for my own breakfast, got the gate switched twice, and finally got to board the plane on time.  (12 hours late on time that is.)

Ahhhh, who can stay mad at that...
As we were getting on the plane, there was one extra Sunwing employee there this morning apologizing and handing everyone a photocopied piece of paper.

"On behalf of Sunwing, we'd like to apologize for the delays, and we'd like you to have this gift from us to you to make up for any inconveniences this may have caused you, our valued customer."

I was moved...  My angry smile melted away, and a sincere smile replaced it.  Sharon, Lois and Bram were replaced in my heart by something much more appropriate.  Let's say Milli Vanilli.  It's nice to see that the big bad an evil corporation decided upon itself to make a gesture saying, I know we fucked up, and we're sorry.  You have plans and you decided to make Sunwing apart of it, and we dropped the ball.  We can't make up for the day in Rome you lost, but at least we can give you a little something back.

I sat down and got comfortable in my chair and opened the folded piece of paper, and read the following:

"We apologize for any inconvenience, please accept this voucher for $75 off your next Sunwing vacation. Valid until the end of the year."

There is no picture that can explain how angry this made me, so here is a duck.

So I guess my day of lost vacation which I spent multiple thousands of dollars on through Sunwing on was worth a $75 coupon which would expire before I got more vacation time.  As well the coupon was for a Sunwing vacation, which frankly I wouldn't book with again for anything less than free.  (Well I might spend as much as $75 on an all inclusive week to Cuba with Sunwing.)  But really, talk about a bad customer experience.  I threw the coupon out.

Needless to say, I do not endorse Sunwing, and will not being using them any time in the future.  I know this has been really long, but for those who held out through my entire long and boring story,  here's a coupon...

With my sincere apologies for the sheer length of this read.
Good, now go sing the "Elephant Song".



Sunday, 26 August 2012

My Dirty Fantasies

So I am always curious about what brings people to my blog. It's a most curious thing. I obviously get a bunch of hits when I first post a blog. Mostly from my friends who follow my facebook and twitter. (And the 3 people that follow me on Google+.) I can also see stats on when, where, and what search brought them to my blog. The searches interest me the most, because it gives me a good idea about what interests people enough to have them click on some strangers musings.

This picture is unrelated, but probably will increase
my blog hits by about 7 times.
So what are the most searched for things you ask? Well, you probably aren't asking this, but I'm going to tell you anyway. "Record Player" and "Surfing Unicorn" are number one and number two respectively. Both are from my blog "More Controversial Stuff From My Brain". The third is "Joel Higgins" ("Legend of Immortal Joel Higgins") and fourth is "Atheist vs. Christian" ("Atheists and Other Beliefs") Which by the way are my number two and one viewed blog both getting about 1.5 hits a day. My first ever blog (Blogging) has only 45 hits, and I don't expect it to ever get any more. It is kind of lame with no awesome pictures like the one shown here. Also, on an unrelated note. I do have one search of "skydiving loser" which brought someone to my page. Never have I brought up skydiving in all my ramblings although I probably have mentioned the word loser. I don't understand Google searches sometimes.
Check out my Movember pictures
if you really want to see a narcissist.
The other thing that I have found to the people I have talked to about my blog is that they are most likely to read my blog if it has an interesting title. I am sure this is why "Obamacare Isn't That Bad" despite being one of my personally funnier blogs and why "Language May be Offensive to Some" got 100 hits in a day. This may be why you clicked on this link, because My Dirty Fantasies sounds kind of sexy, and why you are probably disappointed that I've so far only done a lot of self promoting links.
What can I say, I'm a little narcissistic. The truth of the matter is this, this August for some reason I can't fathom, my blog has gotten over 100 hits more than any other month, despite only having one post. So since I have my personal best, I figure I might as well shoot the moon, and try and post something that should get a bunch of hits because it's sexy, fun, and mostly has a great picture of boobs on it. And lets face it who doesn't love boobs. Boobs boobs boobs! The more times I say it, the more likely it is to come up in your search engine. Hmmm... I wonder if there are any other websites that relate to boobs. I doubt it. The Internet is sooooo prudish!
Okay, well enough of the shameless self promotion. You came to hear my fantasies, and as promised you will hear them. (At least the few of you who actually read this far with out getting sick of the above prattling...
Nothing says sexy like Houndini's magic tricks...
I hate to say it, but my fantasies aren't exactly "50 Shades of Gray". In fact I've never read it, nor do I have the desire to. I understand the basic premise, and while I am sure this craze of "Mommy Porn" may be a band wagon worth hopping on, I probably won't be anytime soon. What does interest my more is the psychology of the dominant/submissive relationship mentioned in the book (at least I am told), and what draws people into these roles. Do people actually want be beaten and humiliated for fun? Do they hate their lives that much, or have so much guilt over past events that the only way they can feel better is to be on the receiving end of a restrained beating? Do others find the only way to feed their ego is to be punisher? Do they feel so powerless in their public life, that the only way to even things out is to reverse that role?

I'm sure there is way more to it than that, but my fantasy is less about experiencing that, but more about understanding it. In fact about understanding everything that people do. A colleague of mine last week admitted to me in a casual conversation that he had a copy of "Mein Kempf". Realizing what he had implied seconds later, he immediately tried to justify why he had a copy. He explained it was because he wanted to see what a mad man had been thinking and that all dictators should be scrutinized. He needed not justify himself, as I completely understand that feeling.
STEAMROLLER!!!!
If I had to make the proverbial genie wish, I think that I would wish to know and understand everything. Everything from the minds of the evil, religion, science, and the most mind boggling of all, women. Having thought about this, I do understand that if I were to have this wish come true that I would probably be confined to a mental institution shortly thereafter, as to know the absolute truth, and then try to survive in a world laden with lies would do nothing short of drive someone crazy. Still to know everything without doubt, without hesitation, without any sort of candy coating would truly be my number one fantasy.
The writers fantasy has me looking disheveled, and smoking a pipe.





The other major fantasy I have is to get paid for writing. This blog is a lot of fun and all, but it would be sweet to make money for it. I'm not about to give up a good career and put my family at risk or anything on the whim of a pipe dream, but I really do enjoy writing, so if I could get paid a wage that I could survive on, that would be my on my fantasy list.  In fact, I think all you freeloaders should stop reading my blog for free, and start sending me quarters.  (Email me at mattclaus74@gmail.com if you'd like to send me a quarter.)  Other fantasy careers include, baseball player that hits only home runs, hockey goalie who break dances whilst saving every puck, professional vacation go-er on-er, Joel Higgins' personal assistant, and guy that gets paid to surf YouTube.  If anyone wants to offer me any of the above jobs, please email the above.

My final fantasy is to have this picture stolen and made into a best selling t-shirt...

Number 1 image on Google for Surfing Unicorn!!!
That's right, I created it, and people keep searching for it.  I don't have nearly the ambition to do anything with this.  Sure I stole the image of the wave and the unicorn, but I put it together and added rainbows.  I would absolutely and positively stoked if someone put this on a t-shirt, and sold it.  I don't need credit, I don't need money.  All I need to know is that someone loved it enough to do it, and someone else thought it was good enough to buy.  I tell you what, if anyone wants it, send me an email, and I'll make it at cost.

Oh yeah, one more wish for a fantasy....


BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!


Be careful what you wish for....

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Generation X - Still whining after all these years.

Some things stick in my mind and I'm not sure why.  One thing I loved as a kid was Mad Magazine.  I don't even know if Mad Magazine exists anymore, although I'm sure that it's on the web somewhere.

Smells like Nostalgia
It really was quite a brilliant magazine, and I enjoyed everything about it.  I would digest every article.  Even though today's generation doesn't really ever need to know what a magazine is, I'd recommend checking it out.  One particular joke I recall was " "It's scary to think that tomorrow's teenagers will have to come up with music loud and distasteful enough to offend parents who grew up loving the Beastie Boys." I still remember all that joke after years, because it always made me think what would offend my generation.  The truth is the Beastie Boys were certainly not the most offencive band my generation produced, although they did encourage me to fight for my right to party.  Still that's pretty standard.  Twisted Sister also told me I didn't have to take it, Motley Crue told me I had to smoke in the boys room and Weird Al told a generation to Eat It.

What really stuck out though to me was that Baby Boomer writer was really out of touch thinking that my music was loud and distasteful.  I'm sure that he listened to some crap like the Rolling Stones, Beatles, or perhaps Mozart, you know, those OLD people.  I listened to Megadeth, RUN DMC, and Right Said Fred.

Brilliant Lyrics and totally
heterosexual music. 
(Not that there's anything
wrong with that.)
But his generation always had bad things to say about us X'ers.  We were lazy, unmotivated, didn't want McJobs, and we were a bunch of whiners. 

The Baby Boomers have all the good jobs.  We'll have to take care of the ageing population when they retire.  Your killing the environment and the O-Zone.  You old fogies are selfish and you don't understand our generation man!  We're not lazy, we just have nothing to motivate us. 

My point is we came off as a bunch of lazy self-entitled whiners, misunderstood by the old fogies, refusing to grow up and take responsibilities, and thinking that plaid shirts and Doc Martens were awesome. 


Spoiler Alert:  They totally are!
I think in retrospect we had some pretty good points though.  The Baby Boomers really were a pretty hefty generation that learnt that birth control meant a higher standard of living.  Less kids meant less had to be spent on kids.  A generation that started out protesting Vietnam police actions and living for peace love and dope, ended up being the corporate climbers and being the selfish generation, living for 'me'.  Yuppies was an evil word, and that's what they were.  (Not you mom and dad, you did great.)  ;)

Over all we felt forgotten, we felt lost, we felt like we had no direction.  We yelled loudly and no one payed attention.  One thing though...  We would NEVER grow up to be our parents.  We'd show our kids how be awesome, and give them the respect we never got.

Fast Forward 20 years...

We're all winners here!
Kids today don't know how good they got it!  Talk about a selfish generation!  For some reason they all expect to succeed without trying.  They are willing to knuckle down and work for a living.  They do nothing but play video games and text on their phones.  They don't listen to reason.  For some fool reason they think that everyone deserves a trophy even if they come in last place!  We raised a generation of wimps, and how on earth do we expect them to take over our hard-earned middle management jobs when these snot nosed kids can't won't even flip a burger.  I'm sorry, but updating your 'Myspacebook twitter' account and typing with your thumbs doesn't count as a skill.
 
And while we are on the subject, learn to spell and use grammar.  Acronyms are not even on the radar in real English.  If you have to type things out, learn how to properly articulate yourself using real words! 


God Damn Right!

Back in my day we played outside, got in trouble, didn't wear helmets, climbed trees, ate mud, skinned our knees, and got minor concussions, and we liked it that way.  We survived.  We are still here.  Today's kids are so mamby pamby, I swear bubble wrap is going to be the next fashion trend.  (In fairness though, to all who make this argument...  Those who didn't survive those childhood adventures aren't here to give the other side of the story.)  When I was a kid I walked to school by myself or with a friend at the age of 6.  It was probably 500 meters away.  Can you imagine that happening today?  The parents would be arrested.

In retrospect, I'm pretty sure the greatest generation whined about the Boomers, the Boomers whined about the X'ers, and we whine about the...  Well, what the hell do you even call them?  Gen Y?  Milliniumers? FaceBook generation?  Pick a name already!  Or do we have to do that for you too!

Talking 'bout my g-g-g-generation
I did figure out one thing for sure.  What kind of music will tomorrow's teenagers have to come up with music loud and distasteful enough to offend parents who grew up loving the Beastie Boys?


You win this one Millennium generation.
You win this one.