Welcome to JTC Inc.

Chaps: because if they had an ass, they'd just be called pants.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from your friends at JTC Inc!

Before I head out to get hammered, I just thought I'd share with you something I found quite hilarious from this week's NOW magazine here in Toronto:

If there were no hangovers, many of us would have very happy, albeit brief, lives. Here’s to January 1, our collective morning after.

WHAT: Water

WHEN: After every drink

WHY: I can’t imagine why. Following every alcoholic drink with a big glass of water does not prevent a hangover, it merely drowns your buzz. Farmers are good with regular, measured applications of water. Drunks are good with the regular, measured applications of booze. Show me an irrigated reveller and I 'll show you a sober person, most likely on his/her way to take a pee. The H2O hangover prevention theory is like suggesting that celibacy is the best way to avoid STDs.

AVAILABILITY: Your tap, where it’s absolutely free

Friday, December 26, 2008

Holiday Wishes from JTC Inc.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Throw a shoe at me once, shame on... shame on you. Throw a shoe at me - can't throw a shoe again.

Below is some very brief coverage of a couple of video-related items that I found interesting.

The Shoeing of Bush

If you're trying to keep warm this winter by keeping your head tucked up your ass, it's possible you missed an Iraqi reporter throwing his shoes at the leader of the free world like he's the Random Task of Iraq or something.

TTC-inspired Music

We've casted numerous darts and laurels at our beloved and beleaguered Toronto public transit, however I was impressed to have discovered the system has inspired not only our ranting here at JTC, but some quality musical numbers that span recent decades.

First, the contemporary "I Get On The TTC", which pays hip-hop-homage to the system.

My highlights of this little ditty include:

  1. The guy in the background (as pictured above) hand gesturing east side, south side and west side (1:20-1:24), followed by a passionate delivery of "word!" - awesome.

  2. Multiple gratuitous uses of "word!" (my favorite at 1:38).

  3. Overall, the lyrics and their rap-tastic delivery are solid; "Pocket full of celery when I get off at Bellamy" at 1:57 is a fine example.

  4. The trueness-to-form of the hip-hop effort, including the classic and requisite R&B slow-down interlude at 2:52, with slow thematic electronic notes backing a computerized voice serving up multiple repetitions of "I get on" in a heavy, rolling layer of sexyness. I can hear panties hitting the floor right now.

The second number is the classic "Spadina Bus", a surprise 1986 Top 40 hit by Toronto's Shuffle Demons, inspired by the now defunct 77 Spadina bus route (retired after the 1990s installation of the 510 streetcar and it's right-of-way).










There are several things to love about this video:

  1. One of Toronto's revered contemporary musicians, Richard Underhill (pictured above), loses some of his jazz-club-cool when seen in this video scattin' like he's part of a hippie, Sesame Street version of the Beastie Boys.
  2. Evidently the retirement home gate was left open during the shooting, given the hilarious crazy old person dance circle at 3:10.
  3. Overall, the outfits are well done - the mixture of tie-die, unorthodox facial hair and checkered pants is amazing.
  4. The lyrics overall are quite impressive. I particularly like the line "I want confirmation on my information about my transportation from Spadina station", and intend to use this with the toll collector at my next visit.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Another HR Card!

It blows my mind that I witnessed this. That said, being the next speaker was pretty damn easy.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

JohnnyM's Quick Hits

You know, a lot of the time I have ideas for blog posts that never become anything. This could be because these ideas are "bad", or "not very well thought out". But it might also be because I don't have time to sit my ass down and take the time to write what I consider to be a good posting. Let's go with that explanation.

With that in mind, I now present to you "JohnnyM's Quick Hits". This has nothing to do with those pictures of me from university with a bong in my hand, but is rather a forum for me to express some (not very well thought out) ideas and comments that have recently come to mind. Will this be a semi-regularly recurring post? Will it not suck? Let's hope so. Let's get this party started:

1) Despite CoCo's attempt to run as a Bloc Quebecois candidate in Toronto, we rarely get political on your asses, but I have to say that I am absolutely fascinated by all of this "bring down the minority government with a new coalition government, and install a lame duck Prime Minister" stuff that's been going down lately. Maybe it's because I'm an "anarchist asshole", or maybe it's because I think being an arrogant prick is enough of a reason to fire somebody, but I'm all aboard the Coalition Train, baby! Let's do this! (If I thought we had any readers in Alberta, I'd apologize at this point.)

2) This one has been irritating me for a few weeks now. That's right, this whole Beyonce - "I am...Sasha Fierce" bullshit. More like, "I am...pretentious". I don't really know what the hell gets into musician's heads when they decide to create "alter-egos", but I don't think it's anything good. I mean, when has this worked? Maybe with David Bowie and Ziggy Stardust, but at least he had the excuse that he was clearly doing a pack-mule's worth of the finest Columbian cocaine each day. What's Beyonce's excuse? Anyone else remember Garth Brook's alter-ego, Chris Gaines? I do, but only because one time Garth Brooks hosted Saturday Night Live, and some moron called Chris Gaines was the musical guest. And it was shit.
Full disclosure: when I created my blogger account, I narrowed down my list of potential screen names to two: the eventual winner, "JohnnyM", and "Sasha Fierce". Maybe I'm just regretting that decision.

3) You know what's coming up in a couple of weeks? That's right - it's my favourite post of the year! Here's the 2006 and 2007 versions.

Friday, November 14, 2008

A quick list of things I currently do that would get me in a lot less trouble if I was a baby

  • Farting
  • Shitting my pants
  • Making a stink sphere that encompasses everyone around me
  • Blatantly ignoring people who don't interest me
  • Flipping the bird under the false premise of an accidental hand gesture
  • Drinking heavily from a bottle until I vomit all over myself
  • Gawking at women's breasts while making suggestive faces

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Transit City: Jet Packs and Light Rail

Before we get started, I'd like to dedicate this post to PChrist's recently new born son, and CoCo's yet to be born and somewhat late daughter (based on my extensive knowledge of women, she's probably just trying on outfits before heading out. "Heading out"? Hilarious.) As PChrist pointed out today - they're not just having children...they're adding blog readers. And God knows we need them.

As often noted, this blog is not just about the Toronto Transit Commission...despite this post, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, and especially this one, which is basically about the same thing as what I'm about to write. But let's not worry about that, and talk about "Transit City", the TTC's bold light rail plan, which will take Toronto's transit into the 21st century.

I ride the subway every day into my (real) job, and over the past few weeks, all the subway cars and stations have been plastered with ads for Transit City. Unfortunately, I don't run the TTC, but if I did, and I had a massively expensive infrastructure plan I was trying to get off the ground, I don't think I'd be turning away advertising dollars to advertise...uh...myself. But, whatever, let's take a look at some of these clearly well thought out light rail routes:

Don Mills
This 18-kilometre long line will run along the Don Mills Road corridor from the Bloor-Danforth Subway to Steeles Avenue and potentially into York Region.

"Potentially"?? I'm hoping we can firm that one up before we start laying track.

"Well, we've hit Steeles Ave, boss. Where to now?"
"Fuck it - let's just go to Sudbury."

I think this is my favourite though:

Eglinton Crosstown
This 31-kilometre long route will link Kennedy Station in the east with Pearson Airport and the Mississauga Transitway in the west.

Wait a second...I used to live on Eglinton. It's pretty built up once you get past Laird...where would the train go?

The line will operate in an underground tunnel from approximately Laird Drive in the east to Keele Street in the west.

Of course it will! Tunnels - they're simple.

In an attempt to come up with our own light rail line worthy of the clearly thought out "Transit City", I now boldly present:

This 6.2km long route will link The Only Cafe with Scotland Yard. Also, it will go to The Auld Spot, and The Rose and Crown (when it re-opens). And I'm feeling generous, so it'll stop at your house. Also, the cars will be pulled by unicorns.

Being a visionary is thirsty work. That's why I'm looking forward to the 4th Annual JTC Remembrance Day Pub Crawl tomorrow night. Boo-yah!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Tales of Hypocrisy! - Volume 1

Both of you probably remember my searing insightful - yet hilarious - post about people who sit in the wrong seats on airplanes and sporting events.

Well, last Tuesday night CoCo and myself were at the Leafs game (shockingly, they lost in a shoot out), and we...uh...sat in the wrong seats. I honestly don't know what happened. When I walked in the stairwell, I made eye contact with the usher who apparently recognized me and said, "You know where you're going." Apparently not. For those of you who don't like to click on links, I'll refresh your memories as to how I previously referred to these fine folks:

"Additionally, there are ushers (aka "Idiot Gate-Keepers") at every entrance into each section to direct illiterate morons."


When we sat down, I...uh...kicked someone out of one of the seats (that wasn't mine). Fortunately, he was an idiot too, and was sitting in the wrong seat. When the rightful owner of the seat I'd planted my fat ass in showed up, I realized I'd made the old "section 318 - section 319 switcheroo". As we moved to the correct seats, I thanked the sweet Lord that the game hadn't started (and that the Leafs weren't on a power play).

Just to show you how strong of character I am, when we took our correct seats, I decided to try and pin our misfortune on my good friend CoCo, with the following exchange:

JohnnyM: "What the hell happened there?"
CoCo: "I don't know."
JohnnyM: "Was that you or me that caused that?"
CoCo: "I'm pretty sure that was you."
JohnnyM: "Son of a bitch."

Sweet fancy Moses, I am a dumb bastard.

Speaking of dumb bastards, the Leafs sent naked cell phone guy down to the minors on Saturday. Just to show that his judgement is still exceptional when it comes to pictures of himself, check out the pic attached to this story.

Friday, October 17, 2008

JTC's guide to naming a PGA Tour event

Just follow this simple formula, and you'll end up with a great name for a tournament:

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

I'm Pretty Sure I'm The Coolest Guy I Know

Last week I went for a run. It was pretty long, so I ended up back in my old 'hood here in Toronto, at the intersection of Yonge and Eglinton. I was about to head off the busy streets, away from all the traffic and people, but something made me want to run up Yonge...it was my rampant alcoholism.

You see, as previously mentioned, we've been pretty bummed out ever since the Rose and Crown shut down. And yet, we've also been fairly excited ever since our fan told us that the Rose was going to "bloom again". (As an aside, that's pretty gay. Not that sexuality has anything to do with it.) Also, I'd recently seen some ads on the subway advertising "Alexander Keith's Birthday Party" on October 5th, with one of the locations being none other than the Rose and Crown. (As another aside, how many birthdays does this fucker have? When I visited the Keith's brewery in Halifax, it was his birthday that night too! As an aside to the aside, my CHP told me to "tone done the swearing on the blog". WTF?)

Anyway, I ran north up Yonge, which is not a bright idea at around 6:30pm, as the sidewalk is just jammed with peeps. Interestingly, I was at almost the exact spot where I had previously enjoyed a foot race in the opposite direction. As I ran, I was forced to dodge between pedestrians, a bus shelter, and various utility poles. As I made one particularly quick move around a parked bicycle, I somehow managed to catch the wire from my headphones around said bicycle. I kept moving; the headphones did not. "Shit!" I loudly exclaimed, much to the dismay of a passing 8 year old.

I walked back to the bike, where somehow, my headphones had managed to get tangled around the spokes of one wheel. As I tried to quickly unwrap my headphones - avoiding eye contact with the numerous passers-by - I was thinking how awesome it would be if the owner of the bike had suddenly appeared. Unfortunately, they did not, and I was soon on my way.

Which is why I'm pretty sure I'm the coolest guy I know.

Oh yeah - and the Rose is still shut.

Friday, October 10, 2008

A war is upon us

Nation, we are engaged in a war that is being fought on many fronts: from the streets of Vancouver to the Rocky Mountains. This war is going to take many turns, and the enemy, Bears, must be defeated.

Bears have made it clear that British Columbia is the central front in their war against humanity. As we fight the enemy in B.C., every man and woman who volunteers to defend our nation deserves an unwavering commitment to the mission and a clear strategy for victory. A clear strategy begins with a clear understanding of the ruthlessness of the enemy we face, something a great neighbour to the south has been been doing for years.

These bears share the same ideology as the terrorists who struck the United States on September the 11th. They share the same ideology with those who blew up commuters in London and Madrid, and murdered tourists in Bali. Just last weekend, they attempted to massacre a B.C. native, Jim West, and in September, a group of fishermen armed with gaffs and knives heroically killed a black bear that launched a suicide attack on a boat at a dock in Port Renfrew.

This is an enemy without conscience, and they cannot be appeased. If we're not fighting and destroying these Bears in B.C., they would be plotting and killing Canadians across the world and in other provinces.

Against this adversary there is only one effective response: We will never back down, we will never give in, and we will never accept anything less than complete victory.

Some are calling for a deadline for withdrawal from B.C. Many advocating an artificial timetable for withdrawing Canadians are sincere, but I believe they're sincerely wrong. Pulling our Canadians out before they've achieved their purpose is not a plan for victory. As Jacques Drisdelle, B.C. provincial co-ordinator of Bear Aware said recently, "Bears should never be tolerated. Setting an artificial timetable would discourage Canadians because it seems to be heading for the door. It will encourage the Bears."

Mr. Disdelle is right: Setting an artificial deadline to withdraw would send a message to all of Mother Nature’s violent creates that Canada is weak. Setting an artificial deadline to withdraw would send a signal to our enemies that if they wait long enough, humanity will cut and run. And setting an artificial deadline to withdraw would vindicate the terrorist Bear tactics of maulings, honey pot stealing and garbage raiding, and invite more attacks on humans.

And like fascism and communism before, the hateful ideologies of Bears that use terror will be defeated by the unstoppable power of freedom. We will answer history's call with confidence because we know that freedom is the destiny of every man, woman, child and spawning salmon on this Earth. Nature-loving, bear-killing Canadians: Our freedom and our way of life are in your hands, and I believe they're in the best of hands.

Monday, September 29, 2008

WTF Volume 8: Your JTC Board of Directors

WTF Factor: Sheepish smile

Hi there. Sorry about the wait. After literally being inundated with one comment on my last post, I really feel like we owe you an explanation. I think our old friend 'Anonymous' really summed it up well here:

"where the hell are you guys????"

Where, indeed? I mean, surely some shit must have been happening with us that we could have written about. CoCo and I attended the totally misleadingly titled "Virgin Festival" on the Toronto Islands a few weeks back, where Noel Gallagher - a man who has had a not insignificant impact on my musical listening career - was assaulted on stage. Then, because I'm much smarter than he is, I managed to get home around 11:30pm, while CoCo was waiting for a ferry for over two hours. That would seem to have blog post written all over it! And yet...nothing.

I traveled to New Brunswick for work, with a thought of writing a "WTF Redundancy Volume 47: Fredericton" post. Turns out that Fredericton is a beautiful city with a lot to offer the exercise-minded business traveler. Son of a bitch. I considered writing a "WTF - How Come You're So Awesome, Fredericton?" post. And yet....nothing. (And in my defense, that post would have sucked.)

Just last week, in an attempt to draw us out, our friends at the Toronto Transit Commission decided to create commuter chaos by making up a situation which shut down the subway system for hours. I mean - "cables on the track"? Embarrasing. And yet...nothing.

Well enough of this shit, my friends. We're back. On Saturday night, I'm going out to Nuit Blanche, which - if you aren't familiar - is this all night art thingie that Toronto apparently ripped off from other cities that probably do it much, much better. Last year, we walked around and looked at the "art", and even came up with our own JTC-based exhibit entitled, "Juxtapose Strobe". The premise is this: We do the robot with a strobe light pointed at us, whilst yelling "Juxtapose!" and "Strobe!" Trust me - it's better than most of the shit out there.

Speaking of shit, last year when we were walking around, we saw a toilet at the side of the road. For a second, we thought perhaps it was an "art installation". Turns out that someone was just... you know...throwing away a toilet. Still - I tried to convince CoCo to sit on it, and simulate defecating to see how many people we could convince that it was "real art". If only we'd had a strobe light. Juxtapose!

This Saturday should be a real barn burner. In the words of CoCo:

"We’re not fucking around this year – we’re bringing tons of booze and food with us in packs and just drinking and partying throughout the whole thing as opposed to pub crawls. Even thinking of making a sign that we’d carry around with us, and when we sit down and drink, put it up – it would be a fake installation sign and the art would be called “People tired of looking at art and drinking in a park” and the description could be something like “it’s the juxtaposition of the drinking with the art appreciation” and maybe we could take a strobe light along or something."

Juxtapose! Strobe!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

WTF Volume 7: Taste of the Danforth

As has previously been reported in this space, the Taste of the Danforth festival which occurs every year here in Toronto can be quite the epicentre of hilarity. This year, for the benefit of our reader(s), I decided to "embed" myself in the hot Greek action (that should get us a few Google hits) by working at my friend's food stand. And here's what I observed:

The Weather

WTF Factor: Attempting to acquire two of every animal

Holy. Shit. It was a deluge of biblical proportions. The weather this past weekend was terrible, which kept a lot of peeps away. Which was too bad, because I really think that more people = more idiocy = more hilarity. Oh yeah, I guess it sucked for all the people who rely on Taste of the Danforth in order to make money too. Don't worry though - I promised my friend I'd buy a burrito off him every week for the rest of the year.

Peacock Feathers

WTF Factor: Bemused staring

Every year that I've gone to Taste of the Danforth, I see people walking around with peacock feathers that they have purchased of a street vendor. The great mystery is this - WHY? WTF do they do with these things once they get them home? Shove them in their balding peacock? Bizarre.


WTF Factor: Laughing with strangers

Okay - so at the stand where I was working we were selling soft-shell tacos, which we served on paper plates. About every 10th customer would ask if we could give them a fork. I made the executive decision that we weren't going to hand out forks because once you hand out one fork, everyone else is suddenly going to decide that they can't possibly live without their free plastic fork. This, by far, was my favourite exchange on the topic:

Idiot: "Can I have a fork?"
JohnnyM: "Sorry, buddy - no forks. Hey - it's a taco, right? Just roll it up at eat it!"
Idiot: "I can eat the plate?"
JohnnyM: *stunned silence* "Uh...not really."
*crowd erupts in laughter*

Cheap Bastards

WTF Factor: Dismissive irritation

I was blown away by the number of people who would walk up, and ask me for free stuff, or try to bargain me down. The prices are posted, you fuckers. One dude (who found a sharp knife that I think I may have accidentally knocked onto the street) must have asked me three or four times. "Well, I'll have a chicken taco, because it's free right?" Not really, dick head. Again, here's my favourite exchange with these jack-asses:

Cheap Bastard: "How much are the Mexican drinks?"
JohnnyM: "$2."
Cheap Bastard: "I'll give you $3 for 2."
JohnnyM: "I don't think so."
Cheap Bastard: "Come on, man! If I was in Mexico, I could get a ton of these for $2!"
JohnnyM: "Yeah, but the airfare would set you back a bit."

Anger at The Only?

WTF Factor: Being more upset than I care to admit

As previously mentioned, The Only Cafe is the best pub in Toronto. After my Saturday shift on the Danforth, I decided to wander down the street to the Only for a pint. Not unexpectedly, it was fairly busy in there, so I sat down at the bar. About 30 minutes later, it started getting really busy in there, which resulted in a bunch of peeps crowding all around me. After a few more minutes, I was getting leaned on enough by the drunk morons behind me, that I was practically making out with the bar (Off-topic: making out with the bar at the Only is actually a recurring fantasy of mine. But not like this. Not like this.) So that was pretty uncomfortable. Then some fucking guy, decided to set up shop directly behind me and YELL at the top of his lungs, at anybody and everybody in the bar. At one point, he looked at me. "You must hate me," he slurred. "Kind of," I replied. I then left the Only in anger - the one (and I hope ONLY) time I ever do that in my life. Ugh.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Don't Lose Your Head In A Crisis

So, yesterday I was surfing around on the internet, and I was looking at the headlines on the City News website. "Man Decapitated on Bus" screamed one headline. Given that I feel that City News has about as much credibility as the National Enquirer - I wouldn't be surprised to see a headline announcing "Alien Impregnates Cat" - I didn't even bother looking at the story.

Then I went to the Globe and Mail's website, and found out that someone had actually been murdered on a Greyhound bus. After being stabbed multiple times, the attacker had hacked off the victim's head. And they say all the creeps and weirdos are on the TTC.

I discussed this shocking story with CoCo last night over a couple of beers. I felt that this incident could potentially be a real publicity problem for Greyhound, and that Via Rail may see a sudden upswing in business. I started trying to come up with Via Rail slogans that could capitalize on the story:

"Via Rail - 100% Less Decapitations Than Greyhound!"
"Don't Lose Your Head - Take Via Instead!"

CoCo then suggested that a severed head could be the new spokesperson for Via. Or could offer testimonials on how shitty Greyhound is. Or something like that. I don't really know what the hell he was talking about. That guy is so fucking insensitive sometimes.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The JTC Shit Pubs In Toronto

After the overwhelming response to our Top 10 Pubs in Toronto list, we decided that in true JTC-fashion, it was time to stop being so damn positive and upbeat, and talk about the pubs in Toronto that we think suck pretty hard core.

So, here - in no particular order - are some pubs that we think are pretty shit:

1. The Unicorn
"An Irish Rovers Free House" indeed. The thing that pains me about this one, is that the Unicorn used to be a decent pub. We've been there tons of times, and have made quite a few stops in here on pub crawls. Shit - I used to live on the same block at this place! But over the years, something happened...the food and the service both became shit. I think I realized I had no desire to ever go back there, when one time I spent about 45 minutes just trying to pay and leave. Also, this place can really take crap live music to new depths of suckitude, especially after you hear "Mustang Sally" for the fifth time.

2. Sensual Lounge

The name? Crap. The place? Crapper. It does deserve a hat tip as being the place where we came up with the oft-referenced "Breast Milk White Russian" (give a lactating woman a shit-load of Kahlua and voila!), but major points are lost for taking no interest in serving us, not being able to give us beer, and for the high likelihood of being shot.

3. Bier Markt
Ugh. Wait in line forever. Join the mosh pit of suits at the bar. Pay $9 for a beer to impress your friends ("It's from Kazakstan!"). Gun. To. Head.

4. The Brunswick House

This was Co-Co's addition...I don't really have much of an issue with this place. I remember going there when I was 19 (and younger), and singing along to "Roll Out The Barrel Of Fun". But I trust Co-Co - it's obviously a shithole.

5. The Drake
You know...the problem with being better than everyone else is that sometimes people think you're pretentious.

Aaaaand, a couple other quick places we want to mention:

First off, Allen's. You know...this one really pains me. I'm extremely conflicted. I like the place, and the patio is terrific. The food is good, and they have a great beer and scotch selection. Buuuuuut...the service is just shit. One time when I was there, I ordered another beer. After about 20 minutes of waiting, I then asked the same waiter for the bill, which he brought me after another 20 minutes. No acknowledgement of the beer order was made. More recently, I went there at 3:30pm on a Monday, and was told that there was no room for me on the patio...unless I was ordering food. Fuck off. I can't bring myself to ban this place outright, but it's officially on probation.

Next, let's talk about the establishment that the JTC Board has designated as "Most Anticipated" - Commuter's Lounge. We've never been there, but buried in the basement of the transit hub that is Union Station sits what can only be described as one of the scariest looking establishments we've ever set eyes on. Last year, before an evening event at the convention centre, I told my friends that we'd meet here. Hilariously, when I showed up, everyone was nervously standing outside, and I was greeted with, "Are we seriously going in there?" Hilarious. We didn't, and not a day goes by that I don't regret that choice.

Finally, as previously mentioned and never discussed since, I recently completed the Ironman triathlon in Lake Placid. In honour of this impressive waste of time, the JTC Board has unanimously voted to enjoy a "Post-Ironman Pub Crawl" in late August (you can bet your sweet ass we won't be visiting any of the places listed above...apart from Commuter's Lounge). Given my recent lack of alcohol consumption, leaving me with the tolerance of a malnourished 8 year old asian girl, we will soon get to find out the answer to the below vexing equation:

Even with two buttons to choose from, there was a 100% chance of him screwing it up

This one is pretty much real-time reporting kids, enjoy.

Just minutes ago, I was walking back from a meeting in a building next to my office with a colleague of mine who is far less intelligent than me. Ok, I’ll narrow it down a little more – he’s far less intelligent than my hot feces.

That was mean. Sorry hot feces, I take that back - you’re way smarter than him.

So the Mensa convention begins with him chatting uncontrollably about his upcoming vacation during our walk back to our building. I try to interject to stop the onslaught of audible diarrhea that I couldn’t possibly care less about, but the look in his eyes tell me both that his brain is a vacuum, and that this story is going to go on for a while.

We arrive at the ground floor of the elevator to our building to go up to our floor, and he erroneously hits the “down” button. This wasn’t a hand-eye coordination issue – it’s not like he was looking away and missed. He had a choice of two one-inch diameter round buttons, one on top of the other, and he was looking directly at it when he hit the one on the bottom. Granted, they aren’t labeled “up” and “down”, but I think they ruled out the necessity for labeling when they had this guy accurately work the buttons during prototyping:

Immediately after seeing him press the wrong button, I start trying to cut off the continuing saga of his hotly anticipated vacation with warnings that he’s pressed the wrong button, in order to allow him the opportunity to correct the error as opposed to my pressing the correct button for him, which might make him feel a little like I’ve pulled up his pants.

However, after refusing to be interrupted at the height of his excitement in hearing himself talk, it appears he might as well not be wearing pants. I press the “up” button as time is starting to burn and I’ve got people to do - and he doesn’t even notice.

As his previously called “down” elevator comes in it’s proper priority order, he begins to board. Flabbergasted, I begin to exercise emergency conversation-interrupting techniques, such as shouting his name and sending out visible hand signal warnings. Something like “Bob… BOB! Dude! You’re getting on the wrong elevator…” *waving hands in the "don't do it" motion, which looks like jazz hands, but with a concerned instead of happy face*.

I then immediately felt like I might have layed on the verbal warnings a little thick and a little loud, realizing that if I just don’t board, surely he’ll get the message and get off and perhaps my yelling wasn’t necessary.

Oh, people, it was necessary. My verbal warnings went unheeded and unheard over his continuing one-way dialogue. The elevator door closed, and to my astonishment, he went on his downward journey without me. How he continued to tell his story while the elevator door closed between us is something science can't explain. I shook my head and boarded my upward elevator which arrived shortly after his departure.

I wonder if this fucking tool understood what I was yelling about as he instructed his elevator car to double-back from the basement.

I’m still not sure how this guy makes it to our office every day.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Saturday is a Great Day to Go Fishing

As previously discussed in this space, surging energy costs are a terrifying reality. It really shouldn't be too long now until we live in a post-apocalyptic world filled with anti-semetic Australians and their dogs.

Recently, a glimmer of hope came into my inbox, courtesy of the Toronto Star. Curiously, this is the same publication that pointed out that despite the fact I don't drive my car much at all, my life will also soon be ruined by high oil prices. Anyway, the Star is giving away $1000 in free gas weekly over the course of the summer, which is going to be great for all of us who envision ourselves more as the 'warlords', and less as the 'peons' in our doomsday future.

But then, after re-reading The Star article, I thought about the people who perhaps were struggling to make ends meet...those who perhaps don't want gas, but would be more interested in, say, $1000 in free ball point pens. I immediately jumped to action:

Subject: Saturday Star Gas Giveaway Contest

Hi there,

I recently received an e-mail promoting the "Saturday Star Gas Giveaway Contest", where lucky subscribers have the chance to win $1000 in free gas. I think this is a great contest, but I was wondering if you would consider modifying the prize. As per recent reports in numerous media outlets, including the Toronto Star (
http://www.thestar.com/article/455107), the high price of oil is affecting the cost of many consumer products. As I rarely drive my car (I'm extremely fond of the TTC), I was hoping that instead of $1000 in free gas, you would consider perhaps offering $1000 worth of some of the consumer products listed in your article which are being impacted by skyrocketing prices. Say, $1000 of ball point pens? Or of driveway sealer? Maybe a combination of these items (nylons, mops, garbage bags, etc.) which adds up to being worth $1000?

Please let me know your thoughts.


I'll let you know when I hear back.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

WTF Volume 6: T in the Park

The company sent me into the field to report yet again, this time to the Scottish music festival T in the Park. Camping in the rural fields of Scotland would itself be a delightful trip, but couple that experience with 80,000 rabid, drugged up Scottish music fans and you’ve got yourself a hell of a weekend. Unfortunately, having been so busy polluting my own body, I didn’t have time to send a postcard and hence am just reporting now. So, in classic WTF fashion, here’s a rundown of some of the highlights:


WTF Factor: Gagging

15% alcohol + more caffeine than several cans of red bull + tastes like Red Wine's dirty cousin + cheap as chips = best seller among Neds and generally the entire Scottish concert-going population.

Throwing pints over the crowd

WTF Factor: Closing eyes and sighing

It’s not only that these assholes toss their full pint in the air to spray down on people's heads, it’s the fact that they paid around eight bucks Canadian a pint to do so.

Throwing pints of urine over the crowd

WTF Factor: Closing eyes and crying

Seriously, sometimes it wasn’t beer. Fucking animals.

Peeing anywhere

WTF Factor: Smirk

Most were mannered enough to do it at the fences, however one dude just took it out and pissed in the crowd at center stage. I felt like I was in a herd of cows.


Women peeing anywhere

WTF Factor: Disturbing eroticism

It might be a little sexist, but I somehow find this more shocking, mostly due to the complexities created by obvious anotomical differences. There were two levels here; “Classy”: using a P-mate (holy shit I could write en entire article on this instructional page alone), or “Ultra-Classy”: squatting in the open, with your creamed clam exposed.

Dying at the concert

WTF Factor: silently mouthing *wow*

I mean, it was the time of my life, but getting stabbed 11 times, isn’t going to get you fame. Just have a campfire, get wasted and go to bed like the rest of us.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Surging energy costs to break household budgets: A JTC panel discussion

As the Toronto Star points out, although the price of oil is predominantly felt at the pumps, the quick and continuous rise of oil prices will most certainly bring about a Mad Max-esque society of rioting consumers fighting to survive. The article plays out cost scenarios for a variety of common household items likely to be affected by the wide-ranging effects of high energy costs. With this important topic deserving of some analysis, two of your directors, JohnnyM and Coco The Monkey, sat down to discuss the end of the world.

JohnnyM: How's tricks, Coco? What do you make of this awful situation and brilliant article?

Coco The Monkey: The article lists a range of common household items that are petroleum-based and will rise with the cost of the barrel, or will increase in cost due to links to oil prices through distribution or manufacturing. Frankly, I'm a little worried about the unavoidable nylon-toothpaste-pillow-mop-ice-cube-tray-trash-bag-ballpoint-pen-based riots.

Johnny: Did you say ice-cube trays? Holy shit! I go through like 10 ice-cube trays a week! (straps on riot gear)

Coco: I used to buy $0.99 ice cube trays and then get about 20 years of use out of them. Thanks to the price of oil, my ice-cube tray costs could possibly double, putting me out another dollar every 20 years. Not sure how I’m going to afford that. And don’t even get me started on mops. I don’t think I’ve heard of a more high frequency, matter-of-life-or-death purchase. We’re fucking doomed.

Johnny: The people I feel for are the bank robbers who rely on putting nylons on their face to conceal their identity. You need money, so you’re going to rob a bank; can’t rob a bank, because you don’t have enough money for nylons. It’s a fucking no win situation.

Coco: Fuck nylons, what about mailing letters? No, not email - you know, the kind where you get out a quill and ink, grab a piece of parchment and send a message as a value alternative to the pricey telegraph? These days, I’m sending like one or maybe even two of those each year! If Canada Post goes ahead, as the article describes, and raises the price of a single stamp from 52 to 54 cents, and by two more cents each year in each of 2010 and 2011, my annual mailing costs are going to skyrocket from just over a dollar, to somewhere in the neighbourhood of a little bit more than just over a dollar. It’s absolutely frightening.

Johnny: All of this is so scary to talk about, but someone has to talk about it – it’s too important not to.

Coco: No shit. For another gasp, take a look at the article's example of driveway sealer costs - a possible 37% increase! That means my favorite, airport-grade brand could go from the affordable price of $27.49, to a sorry-kids-you’re-not-going-to-college price of $37.66!

Johnny: This driveway sealing thing has me really concerned. While I’ve never bought driveway sealer in my life – and don’t actually have a driveway – I feel certain that there are some cracks requiring petroleum-derived sealers SOMEWHERE in my house.

Coco: What a disaster.

Johnny: I feel sick, and I’d love to take a nap to try to get rid of this pounding headache I’ve developed. Unfortunately, I throw away my pillows after each use, and due to the SOARING COST OF PILLOWS, I’m completely screwed.

Coco: I could cry, but I'm worried my tears might be petroleum-based, and if so, I can't afford to.

Johnny: The only saving grace in all of this is that I feel protected from the recent sharp increase in the cost of ballpoint pens. I steal a box of those a week from work, so it’s all good. Maybe I can sell those pens on the sure-to-be red hot ballpoint pen black market to buy my pillows, stamps, driveway sealer, nylons and ice cube trays.

Coco: Exactly - if there is anything to learn from this article and it's rational doomsday forecast, its that it will be important for all citizens to start clearing out the canned food and making space in their bomb shelters for the necessary ballpoint pens, mops, and tar-based sealers that will soon be bartered in these underground markets. This will save the average citizen from having to go to the seedy, mob-run house and office supply gangs for their needs. If we don't start hoarding now, well be at the mercy of the cartels flying Bics and Swiffers in from Colombia.

Johnny: Horrifying.

Coco: No shit! However, what really concerns me, and is not mentioned in the article, is the inevitably prohibitive cost of the most critical of petroleum-based products - petroleum jelly. That's right, no longer will the average working class labourer be able to afford the luxury of a generous daily coating of Vaseline. Just imagine the impacts to productivity when our working men and women arrive on the job chapped and chaffing, and having had to bare-back their masturbatory sessions. Oh, the humanity.

Well, that's all the time we have today. I'd like to thank our panel members, us. Your panel will return next week when we discuss investment strategies for the new century, with specific focus on the effects of rising sea levels on the price of coconuts.

Did I read that right? Dammit! I fucking love coconuts.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

The JTC Top Ten Pubs in Toronto

We here at JTC recently realized that we love pubs, we spend a lot of time in pubs, and we support a lot of pubs financially, and yet we never seem to write much about pubs. Realizing this egregious error, we sprang into action, ran to a pub, and quickly put together the earth-shattering:

JTC Top Ten Pubs in Toronto!

Here they are, in no particular order (except I put the best one first):

1. The Only Cafe
General comments: Hands down the best pub in Toronto. Coincidentally, about a 5 minute walk from my front door.
Place in JTC History: The start of "Remembrance Day Pub Crawl I: The Forward Danforth". Curiously, also the starting point for the more recent "Reverse Danforth", which Co-Co was pretty horny for.

2. The Rebel House
General comments: Quite tiny, but one hell of a pub - great food and a good beer selection
Place in JTC History: Visited during "Descent into Madness '07". Co-Co was ridiculed here for his directional idiocy, in making us change directions during a pub crawl.

3. The Dora Keogh
General comments: Fuller's London Porter ON TAP? Fuck and yes.
Place in JTC History: The ending point for "Remembrance Day Pub Crawl I: The Forward Danforth". Notable for the fact that I couldn't feel my hands and was having trouble seeing at that point. Wouldn't Mom be proud.

4. The Fox and Firkin*
General comments: The first of our entries that requires an asterisk, meaning that explanation is required: we wouldn't REALLY recommend this pub anymore, but felt compelled to include it because...
Place in JTC History: Not only did we hit this pub on about 8 different "Descent into Madness" and 4 "Roaring Bender" pub crawls, but it was the birth place of our hit sitcom - "Human Style" (still in development).

5. The Auld Spot
General comments: A Scottish pub? On the Danforth? And they have Mill Street Tankhouse on tap? Check, check and check.
Place in JTC History: Hit on all Danforth pub crawls (both forward and reverse), and the site of a damn fine St. Paddy's Day if memory serves.

6. Scotland Yard
General comments: Probably the only real pub on The Esplanade, and the least pretentious place near the centre of the universe that is King and Bay. Currently losing points for removing one Golden Tee machine, and taking Tankhouse off the taps because, "people don't drink dark beers in the summer". What. The. Fuck.
Place in JTC History: Current site of the JTC weekly after-work meeting, and where we wrote this exquisite list you're currently enjoying.

7. The Granite Brewery
General comments: A damn fine micro-brewery. Coincidentally, less than a 5 minute walk from my old apartment.
Place in JTC History: The start of many a "Descent into Madness" pub crawl

8. The Rose and Crown*
General comments: Deserving of the asterisk because it...uh...is shut down. Interestingly, the web site is still active.
Place in JTC History: Hit on numerous pub crawls (noting a pattern here?), and also one of the places that I lost the JTC notebook.

9. The Irish Embassy*
General comments: Keeping good diplomatic relations with the Irish is very important to us. But despite that fact, this place gets an asterisk because it's kind of annoying going there and finding all tables reserved, and a mosh pit of suits around the bar, however...
Place in JTC History: Original site of the weekly after-work "JTC Operational Metrics Meeting". In fact, the recurring invitation on my calendar still reads "The Embassy" as the location.

10. Well, we don't actually have a 10th, because we decided that there weren't ten pubs in Toronto that deserved a place on this list - that's how discerning we are. Of course, if you have a suggestion, feel free to add it to the comments.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Things That Drive Me Insane Vol. 4 - People Who Can't Find Their Seats

Well, after Volume 3 of this incredible series was posted, I've been inundated with requests for more things that people can do to piss me off, so here we go: WTF is up with peeps who can't find their seats when they have a perfectly clear ticket in their hand, and perfectly clear seat signage?

Let's start with some recent examples of this. Last week, I was in the shit-hole of Surrey, British Columbia, just outside of Vancouver. (Apologies to anyone from Surrey, but I mean come on - the city's slogan should be "It's not a crack house - it's a crack HOME".) On both my flight to Vancouver and back, some fucking dumbass was convinced that they should be sitting in my seat, despite the fact that the sign above the seat clearly indicated that they were not. I really enjoyed the idiocy of the woman on my flight to Vancouver who - once she took her correct seat beside me - decided to wake me up at one point, to enquire if I was using her seatbelt. I wasn't because that's...you know...FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. But thanks for waking me up.

While these seat-morons are irritating on flights, where they really tweak my nipples is at sporting events. I mainly attend Leafs and Raptors games at the Air Canada Centre, and I really don't know how the sections and seats could be more clearly marked. Additionally, there are ushers (aka "Idiot Gate-Keepers") at every entrance into each section to direct illiterate morons. I can only imagine the chaos if these guys weren't there. Despite this fact, at virtually every game I go to, there always seems to be mass confusion a row or two in front of me shortly after the start of the game where people argue over whose seats are whose, punctuated with much head-scratching and staring at tickets. More enraging? This always seems to happen during a Leafs power play.
I never know how to finish these posts. I'm usually so worked up that I feel like flinging my keyboard through the monitor, so why don't we just end this here.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Beautiful Transit Anarchy

The scene
I’m onboard a Toronto Transit Commission subway car, work-bound. I board at Christie station, and take the Bloor line east to St. George station, at which point I had planned to transfer to a southbound train to the downtown core. Upon arrival at St. George, it’s apparent that this commute will be seriously disrupted.

The problem
As I get off Bloor line subway, I’m on the lower level of the station (see the cross section of Clusterfuck HQ below). I’m shocked to find that there has been so much delay on the North/South line on the floor above, that the backlog of passengers has filled the stairway, stopping me one third of the way up the stairs from the bottom floor (as our regular readers would know, TTC service disruptions make us some of us pretty excited, as do strikes, terrorism, guerilla warfare and the proliferation of nuclear weapons).

The following (cherished) societal abnormalities result from this situation

  • As I turn to get back on the Bloor line, I find the passengers from the trains that came in after mine have now filled the entire bottom floor, and the bottom third of the stairwell on which I’m standing.
  • Anyone with a hint of claustrophobia starts seriously freaking out, mindlessly and stressfully asking people next to them what’s going on. When one of these cool cats shakes the question out of their quivering lips to me, I say “umm, looks like a lot of people are taking the subway today.”
  • The escalator keeps moving up to the second floor and there isn’t space on the second floor. But people keep boarding and then coming off the escalator like lemmings. As they come off at the top, the density of bodies keeps increasing, reaching a point of overcapacity distinguished by the crowd’s angry grunts and shrieks.
  • The passengers on the bottom floor who want to go to street level (again, see cross-section of station above) start realizing they are trapped. Obviously waiting out what is likely to be a short 20 minute ordeal is not an option, and instead they do the sensible thing and try to climb up the backs of the people on the packed stairwell.
  • Two ladies ahead of me are shoved backwards, and I catch them, forced backwards with the hard heel of my dress shoe only half on my stair. I manage to keep it together by grabbing for a rail, which is a good thing as I would’ve absolutely crushed the four-foot grandma behind me, and likely others in the human-avalanche that would’ve ensued.
  • A few stairs up from me, two guys who were a little to close for comfort had a face-to-face 'fuck you' competition, cussing each other out and looking like a rumble was going to ensue. When they realized that this would require fighting in a very tight crowd on a stairway, they gave closing gestures and turned away. The funny part: they had to then stand there steaming at each other for 20 minutes, shoulder to shoulder and faces turned away like some old married couple after a fight. Hilarious.

Of course, when I told JohnnyM about all this, that anarchist asshole was fucking elated and wished he could've been there.

Monday, June 02, 2008

JTC Hotness Contest, Volume 2: Bette Midler vs. Barbara Streisand

My co-board member Pchrist recently saw what he thought was a picture of Bette Midler. Being totally into that genre of music (and steeped in gayness), JohnnyM promptly corrected him, indicating that it was in fact Barbara Streisand. Given the many similarities between these 60-something Jewish goddesses, I can see how Pchrist mistook one for the other. So, following the inspiring (and somewhat gay) path that JohnnyM has blazed (flamed?), I'll attempt to show the subtle differences between these aging songstresses, and through the course of that exercise, decide who is hotter.

Hotness Category 1 - Nickname

Bette: "The Devine Miss M"
Barbara: "Babs"

Edge: Obviously "Babs".

Hotness Category 2 - Jewishness

Bette: Known to pepper her speech with yiddish
Barbara: Won't even press elevator buttons on Sabbath

Edge: Barbara, by a schtickle.

Hotness Category 3 - Singing voice

Bette: Sultry, with occasional schtick
Barbara: It's not without it's chutzpah

Edge: I want to be the wind beneath Midler's wings.

Hotness Category 4 - Nose

Bette: Average
Barbara: Schnozzle

Edge: Babs.

Hotness Category 5 - Trunk

Bette: Juicy
Barbara: What a Tuschus!

Edge: Streisand.

Simple math: it's 4-1 Babs. Mazal Tov, you hot, hot yenta.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Things That Drive Me Insane Vol. 3 - Date Abbreviations That Don't Make Sense

After the overwhelming response I received to Volume 1 and Volume 2 of this series, I really had no choice but to continue explaining things that make me want to gnaw my own hand off out of irritation.

In this installment, I'd like to mention people who insist on stating that (as an example) the year 2008 - pronounced "two thousand and eight" to most of us - can instead be shortened cleverly to "two-oh-eight". I don't know who the fuck started this, but "two-oh-eight" would be...you know...208. The start of the 3rd century. According to my friends at Wikipedia, this is what was happening then: "After the death of Commodus in the previous century the Roman Empire was plunged into a civil war." Not 2008, when ...uh..."Dawson's Creek (2003 series finale): The characters meet once again. Dawson, now 25 is the creator of a television series, The Creek, based on his life." Um...right.

I'm really not sure why this bothers me so much, but sweet fuck, it really, really does. Really.

Just realizing that I'm creating a blueprint for people that want to irritate the shit out of me,

P.S. Did you guys hear that the toilet on the International Space Station is broken? They have one toilet on the whole station? That's just asking for trouble. What do they do when it's they're all eating hot and spicy food on (freeze-dried) Indian night?

Tuesday, May 27, 2008


To my shock and dismay, my hero's attempt has failed! His balloon floated away without him, taking with it both $200,000 of his budget, and my hopes and dreams.

But I'm confident he will try again. Despite the naysayers and their "intimidating risks", and despite spending $12M to date, only to fail three times? Fuck yeah.

And damn it, I can't think of a more important thing in the world to spend $12M+ on than a giant balloon ride to the edge space. Except maybe a bunch of smaller balloons to give to the one billion kids on this earth who live in poverty. Or food for them. Or they can all find hope in this one big balloon as it rises to the heavens, transporting a bored millionaire to space.

Monday, May 26, 2008


Headline news today is the record-setting-skydive attempt by retired French paratrooper Michel Fournier, who plans to jump out of a hot air balloon on the edge of the stratosphere (the threshold of space, mind you), and plummet towards the earth. Delayed several times, the launch crew has been awaiting the right conditions. While they’re waiting, I thought I’d give them my views on this brilliant idea.

It makes so much sense that frankly, I’m embarrassed for all humanity that it took someone so long to do this. This whole thing seems like a no-brainer to me. Here is what the article calls “an intimidating set of risks”:

  • Upper-level wind shear that could damage the balloon (Fournier's first two attempts in 2002 and 2003 ended when wind gusts shredded his balloon before it even became airborne).
  • If the apparatus he’s riding in fails within the first 1,000 feet of ascent, there will not be enough time for Fournier to bail out, or for the balloon's parachute system to deploy. The engineers call this low-altitude segment the “Dead Zone”.
  • When he first exits the apparatus, because the air is so thin, he will not be able to correct his path by manoeuvring his body in the air – if he goes into a spin, he probably will not be able to recover before he blacks out from the force of acceleration. After falling about 15,000 feet, Mr. Fournier will pass the speed of sound. Even a minor kick could initiate an unrecoverable tumble.
  • If he is unconscious when he lands, his team must find him and remove his helmet before his spacesuit's air supply runs out. He could land anywhere in a 40 kilometer radius.

If it works (is there really a chance of failure here?):
“He will land, get some high-paid speaking gigs and take his place in aviation history”. High-paid speaking gigs? Aviation-fucking-history? Fournier’s got it made!

If it doesn’t work:
He will die, and take his place in aviation history. Just like this guy.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Coachella Hotness Contest: Emily Haines vs. Richard Ashcroft

During JTC's recent sojurn to Southern California for the Coachella Arts and Music Festival, there were a few bands that we were quite looking forward to seeing play live. For me, the biggest draw was probably The Verve; CoCo was quite smitten with Metric.

Following these bands' performances, it became apparent that we were interested in perhaps more than just the music (although I defy any musical artist to open a set better than ripping into "This Is Music", like The Verve did). No, no - we were also quite taken with the lead singers of the respective bands. To settle the argument, I have decided to declare the first ever JTC Hotness Contest.

Step right up, peeps - it's Emily Haines of Metric versus Richard Ashcroft of The Verve:

Hotness Category #1 - Torso Attire
Haines: May not have been wearing a bra
Ashcroft: Definitely not wearing a bra (I saw nipple!)
Edge: Ashcroft
Hotness Category #2 - Footwear
Haines: No one could remember
Ashcroft: None. All that hotness has to escape somewhere
Edge: Ashcroft
Hotness Category #3 - Haircut*
Haines: "Could use a trim"
Ashcroft: "Looks way better with his hair like that"
* Quotes are courtesy of my CHP
Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #4 - Smitten JTC Board Member
Haines: CoCo T. Monkey
Ashcroft: JohnnyM
Edge: Ashcroft
Hotness Category #5 - Aging?
Haines: Yes
Ashcroft: Gracefully
Edge: Ashcroft
Hotness Category #6 - Genitalia Location
Haines: Internal
Ashcroft: External
Edge: Haines (DAMMIT!)

So there you have it - through this totally scientific process, Ashcroft wins by a clear margin of 5-1.

I'm pretty sure CoCo has sex with men, and this is gayer than that,

Saturday, May 10, 2008

WTF Volume 5: The Baconator

In this edition of JTC’s continuing “WTF” series, we analyze “The Baconator”, Wendy’s new hamburger, which is essentially a cow wearing buns.

Wendy's Strategy

WTF Factor: Palm-covered face

For a company that prides itself on quality and freshness, offering this colon-clogging behemoth is quite the fucking departure.

The Egregious Size of the Burger

WTF Factor: Speechless Pointing

Two quarter-pound patties, six slices of bacon, cheese, cheese sauce, mayonnaise. It sounds like a week’s worth of groceries.

The Nutritional Content

WTF Factor: Crinkled Brow

840 calories, 1880 mg of sodium: That’s just the burger. It’s 1660 booty-plumping calories with a large coke and fries. I feel like I’m putting on weight just looking at pictures of it.

People Who Order It

WTF Factor: Condescending Stare

Fast food enthusiasts can relish in their dissent of a pussy, health-conscious society, saying “fuck off, you granolas – I’m going to do what tastes right!”

The Experience of Eating One

WTF Factor: Clenched Anus

Wrapping your quivering lips around this meat-stronsity may quell your longing for grease, but trust me, your beleaguered bowls will pay for it. Constipation: what a rush!


The Lack of Warning Labels

WTF Factor: Puzzled Stuterring

They have warning labels on cigarettes. Why not for this hamburger? The wrapper should read with at least the following warnings: Do not operate heavy machinery within 3 hours of consuming the Baconator. Women nursing or pregnant should avoid contact with the Baconator. If eating the Baconator results in an erection lasting longer then 8 hours, please contact your doctor.