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Showing posts from February, 2006

Bowling like you ain't seen before

One of my coworkers has a cute kid. One of those smart kids who cracks up even cynical jerk adults like me, y'know? Kid turned five last week. So coworker suggested we all go out bowling with him. A bunch of grownups hanging out at a five-year-old's birthday party on a Saturday night? Yeah, dawg! So, me 'n 'manda and most of the newsroom headed out to The Village on Bayers Road to the Bowlarama. But this was not like any bowling alley I'd ever seen. You've bowled ten-pin, right? Big heavy balls (no laughing) with finger-holes, ten big-ass pins, two shots. And five-pin -- smaller balls (hey!) without holes, five pins attached by strings. Well, out here, and apparently in parts of western New England, they have something freaky called Candlepin Bowling. Awkwardone's Tribute to Candlepin Bowling sums it up: The game is played on the same lanes as regular "tenpin" bowling, but fundamental differences separate the two variations. First of all,

Weed to kiddies: bad; Grass to kitties: good

After my cat got addicted to drinking water from the bathtub faucet at my old apartment, I did some research and bought a Drinkwell Cat Fountain from PetSmart. It didn't totally kill her tub-thumping habit, but she liked it just fine. Well, now the folks who invented the Drinkwell have a new addition. Michael reports that Strange New Products reports that the fountain now comes with an "Aqua Garden" for cats: "It grows a blend of wheat, oats, barley and rye that cats supposedly love to eat. The grass is said to relieve indigestion, control hairballs and protects your houseplants from Fluffy's desire to graze." My Drinkwell has been left in the closet since the move -- I need new filters for it. Maybe they sell these little growy things separately. Perhaps it'll curb the appearance of cat-puke gobs on the carpet. See, we're not sure who's doing the barfing. My cat ( Kitty ) has been eating the high-fat, delicious prescription food of Amanda&

Blinky, Pinky, Clyde and very Inky

Michael reminded me that I once wanted a Pac-Man tattoo. Well, kinda. I've never been gung-ho for a tattoo. It was hip around the turn of the century, along with tongue piercing and Krispy Kreme donuts. When I was considering getting one, I considered getting something to do with Star Wars. Naw, too geeky, even for me. Was kinda keen on the idea of a Space Invaders tattoo, with a stack of the little invader guys on my leg or something. Various inked folk told me the details would be too tiny, and it'd look like a series of squashed bugs. Eventually thought Pac-Man would be a nice iconic image that would sum up the video game generation of which I was a part. But this guy, as seen via the link MH forwarded me from BoingBoing , went the full Big-Ass route.

Shubenacadie Mactaquac. Eh?

Got this email from my little sister in Stratford, Ontario: I am thinking of you as our local newscasters keep bungling their attempts to report your local prognosticator's name. The Stratford station was having difficulty with it this morning, until a displaced Nova Scotian called in to set them straight. The last guy, from the Wingham station, didn't even attempt it..."...and in Nova Scotia, ......(pause) ..... the groundhog there said...." That'd be Shubenacadie Sam. SHOO-buh-NACK-uh-dee. One of many tricky names around these parts. I got through most of the Federal Election coverage without trip-ups, but on my final run through the Atlantic Canada ridings, I messed up the one I'd actually practised saying beforehand. The New Brunswick riding of Tobique-Mactaquac. I think it's supposed to be "TOE-bick MACK-tuh-QUACK." I ended up saying "toe-BEEK MACK-attack." Must've been hungry for a burger. Got thoroughly razzed for that one. A

Okay, now you can laugh

When I was considering moving out here to Halifax, people warned me about the weather. It hasn't been too bad so far. Interesting, but not bad. Well, today's bad. CBC reports that "a snowstorm has shut down most of Nova Scotia." Yeah, this is snow. A nor'easter. Malls are closed, government offices are closed (paid day off for manda), buses are off the roads, and I don't even see any cabs. Luckily, one of the reporters drives a big-ass four-wheel-drive truck. She'll be swinging by any minute now. This is a reason to run the Storm Centre, people! PS -- Happy birthday, mom!