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

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The little boys (and old ladies) room

If you’ve been keeping up with the blog (and I’m not entirely sure that phrase addresses anyone at all), you know I keep witnessing what I consider to be seriously abnormal activity in bathrooms. I have yet another tale of the toilet.

At the conclusion of yesterday’s weekly round of golden tee with the Board, I went off the bathroom. At this particular pub there are adequate facilities and therefore never usually any wait time, so when I passed through the door into the bathroom I was surprised to be presented with a lineup a few gents deep.

Curious as to what the holdup was all about, I prairie-dogged on tip-toes over the shoulders of my fellow full-bladdered drinkers to have a look at the situation. There was a urinal empty. I automatically assumed the nancy first in line was caught-up with having to pee right beside someone else, and began to by-pass the lineup with a frown, visibly showing my disgust with the excess urinal capacity. However, when I was about to pass the first gent, I noticed his face looking at me bore not the digust of being budded, but carried an expression of curiosity, wondering what the hell I was doing. That’s when I realized what the lineup was for. We were waiting for an elderly woman to finish with one of the urinals and pull up her knickers from around her ankles.

In the first microsecond prior to my realizing the entire scene, I just assumed it was a drunk urinating man who decided to fly his flabby halves, which is somewhat taboo in male urinary culture but not completely unusual. However, I saw half of the face and realized what we were dealing with.

Let me fill out the visual and answer what is undoubtedly your second question: How the hell is a woman using a urinal? Well, I guess theoretically there would be two ways. This old lady did not have the stamina nor the musculature required to hold a position that would “back it in” and make her delivery. Instead, she can only do what I would describe as “The Fonz” slouch (sans thumbs up, of course), where the pelvis is held at an angle sufficient for… well that’s probably enough to explain it.

By the time I had sussed up this whole scene, my bladder was getting the best of me. Being twenty percent of the way to deciding to pee in the urinal beside her, I was relieved of that potentially life-changing experience by a stall door, ajar and advertising it’s vacancy. I ran, turning the lock more for security rather than privacy.

When I came out the miscreant was washing her hands. At this point the line had dissipated and the urinals were once again at full capacity, but this time with customers for which they were designed. New arrivals to the bathroom saw the old lady washing her hands, but went about their business without any visible shock. It’s a funny thing that when a woman enters a men’s bathroom and makes herself at home, nobody minds. In fact in long lineups at concerts, etc, men are often jeering a hardy “Come on in!” to the ladies who are in dire straights and looking to come to the other side. In contrast, if a man enters a woman’s bathroom, I’m pretty sure the result would be anywhere from being called a pervert through to being arrested.

To conclude, while my bathroom experiences are leading to several posts, which is always a good thing, I really fucking hope this kind of thing stops happening to me.

Why I Went Commando At Work On Thursday

Do you ever feel like not wearing underwear? Me neither, but on Thursday I didn't really have a choice. You see, on certain days before work I go swimming. I then leave straight from the pool and head to work. As people that know me can attest, I'm all about the efficiency, so on my way to the pool, I usually wear my bathing suit under my pants, and bring along a pair of undies for after my swim. And on Thursday I forgot them.

The sinking feeling I felt when I was looking through my bag, and realized that it was devoid of undergarments was quite strong. The decision to then just pull my pants on was quite the leap. I considered going home to get some undies, but then remembered that going back home wasn't particularly efficient, and as mentioned above - I'm all about the efficiency. I briefly considered purchasing new underwear when I got downtown, but then remembered that I'm a cheap bastard - why buy new underwear when you have perfectly good underwear at home?

So - I spent the whole day with my pants rubbing directly against my "bits". It felt kind of weird. And also led me to maniacally check my fly every 20 seconds, regardless of if I'd recently gone to the bathroom or not.

As if that wasn't enough, here's something else that happened on Thursday... My desk at work is very close to a small kitchen area that includes a water cooler. I heard a bit of a ruckus over in that area, and it turned out that the water cooler was leaking all over the floor. There was a guy and a girl there, and they seemed to have everything in order. Let's see what happens next:

Random Guy: "Hey John, could you come and give us a hand with this?"
John: (not wanting to help in the slightest) "Uh...sure...hang on." (gets up; checks fly)
RG: "Can you pull the water jug off the top of the cooler? It's leaking. I'd do it myself, but I have a bad back."
J: (extremely doubtful of the bad back story; looking forward to soaking pants that don't have underwear underneath them) "Sure." (JohnnyM lifts off leaking water jug, and places it on kitchen counter. And then checks his fly.)
RG: "Thanks. I'm not sure when it started leaking. It wasn't leaking when I put the jug in there an hour ago."
J: "Wait a fucking second. You didn't have a bad back an hour ago when you put the jug on the cooler, but now when it's leaking all over the place you do? You're such an asshole."* (checks his fly)

In summary:
- don't forget to wear underwear
- don't help people who are assholes

* I didn't actually say this. But boy, did I want to.

Me and The Big Swede

It's been a while since there's been a new post - our apologies for the delay. One of the problems is that our actual (non-JTC) jobs seem to be keeping us all fairly busy these days. Slavery, I tell you. Anyhoo - I was at the Leafs game this week, and I knew that you'd all (both?) want my thoughts on that.

Me and the CHP headed down to the Air Canada Centre to watch the Leafs ACTUALLY WIN. I was stunned to say the least. There were a couple of other things of note to mention. First off - if you can afford to go to a Leafs game (even in the "cheap" seats, where I am) I think you can also afford to do laundry. Especially if you've urinated on yourself. There was someone sitting very close to us who appeared to be caught up in the "afford Leafs ticket / can't afford to wash urine-soaked clothing" paradox. Hmmmm...

The other thing I wanted to mention were peoples' Leafs jerseys. I always enjoy the sheer idiocy some people show when buying jerseys, and slapping names on the back. For starters, at least let someone play for a season and make sure they don't shit the bed completely before getting their jersey! I was stunned by how many Andrew Raycroft jerseys I saw...the guy's Goals Against Average (GAA) is over 4! As CoCo helpfully e-mailed to me during the game, that ranks 79th out of 81 goalies in the NHL. Holy shit.

Putting your own name on the back of a Leafs jersey is just sad. However, worse than that is putting some bizarre nickname on the back. I keep seeing this dude downtown before games in a Sundin jersey with "THE BIG SWEDE" across the back. That got me thinking during the game on Tuesday about other horrendous things to put on jerseys. How about these player / nickname combos:

Bryan McCabe: "THE BIG CONTRACT" (He's getting about $6MM / year to score OT winners. On his own fucking net.)
Andrew Raycroft: "4.07" (That would be his GAA. You may think it would be hard to keep this up to date, but is Raycroft really going to play again this year?)
Jiri Tlusty: "NAKED CELL PHONE GUY" (He's...uh....that naked cell phone guy - don't worry the link is to the CBC)

Friday, February 08, 2008

Unreal Estate

A friend from out of town is considering moving to Toronto and buying a house. He’s looking mainly in the downtown core, known as the “C01” area on MLS, a property listing service that is largely monopolized by the most intelligent and professional business people in the world: Real Estate Agents.

I took a look through the listings on his behalf, and even more shocking than the fact that you can barely get anything for under $400K these days is the hilarious captions these Devry-graduates put up on the ads to lure potential buyers. Some of their best strategies for these comments seem to be as follows:

  1. List the extras! Really, this is Real Estate 101. If the house has a circuit breaker, make sure you put that on the ad. If you don’t take this key step, buyers who are specifically looking for houses with circuit breakers may scroll right over your property! It’s all about using the circuit breaker to get them to the property, and then using the rest of the home’s luxury features, like pipes, a roof and walls, to close the deal once they are through the door.
  2. Remember that your potential buyers are making one of the most important financial decisions of their lives, and as a result, they need your professional guidance. Tell them to “see with their own imagination” what is really for sale. Help them imagine themselves owning the property – what would they do with it? As a trusted professional, you could suggest they could “live in it, or use it as a rental”. This will open up a whole world of possibilities they probably hadn’t thought of.
  3. Focus on the positive. Cunningly turn the home's crack-house status into a selling feature, and the offers will come pouring in. If the property you are trying to sell is really only suitable for the raccoons and rodents that currently inhabit it, advertise it as a “Contractor’s Delight!”. “Renovator’s Dream” is also widely used in this regard. This one is just common sense.
  4. Build a vision. It’s all about making the buyer imagine what their life will be like in this new property, and making that vision a desirable one. For instance, if it’s a Victorian house you’re selling, have them imagine a “Victorian Lifestyle!”. What could be more attractive to a buyer than imagining that buying your property will throw them 150 years back in time, at the height of the British Industrial Revolution. Hell, I’d like to put an offer in right now.
  5. Make sure you comment on the valuable upgrades your client has made to the property. “New Paint” should not be overlooked, and can help justify why you have listed for $698,900, and not $698,850.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Two Years On The Fake Corporate Calendar

As many of you have noticed*, I was away this year in late December, and wasn’t able to make my traditional “anniversary post”, where I summarize the year that was for JTC, and list my favourite e-mail sign-offs. Looking back at last year’s anniversary post, I see that we’ve increased our output from a paltry 1,838 e-mails to each other in 2006, to an astounding 4,066 e-mails in 2007. Using last year’s estimate of 250 “working” days a year, we’ve shattered our target of 10 e-mails a day, actually exceeding 16 e-mails a day (holy shit!).

As mentioned, I took it upon myself to read through all 4,066 e-mails, and come up with my list of favourite e-mail sign-offs….here they are, all 136 of them in glorious chronological order. Enjoy:

Totally professional,
No legal precedent for fucking yourself,
Lawlessly smoking at entrances,
Take your skirt off,
"Effectiveness" is my middle name,
Maybe you got it by being so damned promiscuous,
Fecal contamination,
I hate you,
Enraged and Disgruntled,
Bra burners,
Try to guess the number of beers John will drink this week,
Match made in hell,
He's your friend,
The financial district is a ghetto,
Since I’ll be down there, I’ll go ahead and take care of the cockroach problem,
Sensitivity training,
Pursed lips,
Zero tolerance,
A 5 day work week? Slavery,
Not a JTC team player,
Not my friend,
He's your acquaintance,
Dead gringos,
Great use of ‘fucking baboon’,
Your cat smells,
I sneeze every time I smell “your cat”,
I tried to pet ‘your cat’ and it farted,
Starts with an "h", ends with a "e", and in the middle is "ypocrit",
Shalom, I’d like a loan,
Shit the bed,
They're the ones writing it off,
IT band,
How does that taste,
Toasting your birth,
Getting older, not smarter,
Horny for a 'reverse danforth',
Better prepare your leather pants for a face imprint,
Just kidding about the gay stopping thing,
Don't mess with JTC,
Out of ideas after thinking for 0 seconds,
Just thinking of our readers (us),
You guys want to go to the GAP?,
Burning, just like urination,
Insanely inappropriate,
You're stale,
Where the hell is that updated policy register,
No comment on pussy’s nightwear? Bullshit,
“Gay roots”,
Epidural anyone?,
You’re too old for this,
I six sigma’ed it up her,
Just answer the question,
Attention Ladies: I watch Grey’s Anatomy,
“Latent Homosexual Tendencies”,
Anticipating the "P.S. I hate you" email response,
My palette is ruined,
Your an idiot,
“Allegations of polygamy”,
He networked it up her,
Slut for alcohol,
Urban sprawlers,
You are aware I took the smaller office,
Welcome to your Carlsberg years,
Don’t forget the fucking notebook,
‘Tee Whore,
The world revolves around you,
And by ‘real work’, I mean ‘JTC work’,
There’s gotta be something funny to write about amidst the tragedy of a wedding,
I might be trash too,
She’s also incontinent,
GFY, China; Our kids can out produce yours,
Sex with men? Not as gay,
That's Billion with a "B",
Flagrant use of ‘whore’,
Thank god I put on my Himalayan walkers,
I mean, COME ON!
Gold diapers,
Drunk with power,
You have the full support of the board,
Where is my fucking parachute,
Wanting to leave and drink heavily, but instead I know I'll be working 'til 10pm for no fucking reason,
“Breastmilk White Russian”,
I’m suing you for laziness,
My life doesn’t revolve around your beer needs, all the time,
Get some help,
Looking forward to putting a smoke in my mouth, just so you can slap it out,
I can’t write all these fucking jokey emails all at once,
They should have their own schools,
Swearing = fun,
How about a big cup of what the fuck,
My hat, my hat, my lovely lady hat. Check it out,
Pre-emptive GFY,
Yes, I am a scientist,
Crossing the blue line before the puck,
I can smell it on your breath,
Shrewdness of Apes,
TTC’s new motto: “Don’t like our service? Go ahead and use our competitors… OH BURN!”
Defer all over your face,
Financial Armageddon,
Niagara falls all over your face,
I went ahead and fixed the glitch,
I wanna make every woman I see,
I wear women's pants,
We are such girls,
Drinking right now,
Ya ya ya yya ya yya ya chit chit yaow,
I used them as toilet paper,
Night time lady caller,
See you in hell,
I thought we were going for a steam,
Picturing us doing the robot moves when the strobe is off while saying “Juxtapose!”,
Maybe this time I’ll stop masturbating,
I like the way you work it, no diggity, I got to bag it up,
I’m not gay you sons of bitches,
We’re not men,
Treat me like an object,
Surprised you are not on the floor sweating and twitching,
You decide asshole,
While I’m not sexist per se, I do appreciate hilarious sexist jokes,
Dumbest idea ever,
Engage number 1 *point finger*,
Clap, clap… clap clap clap,
Your team? Monkeys,
Ambiguity – they say it has less fat, but you eat more of it,
In a virtual golfing slump,
Following by example is much easier,
10 letter word for wireless email device,
This better not affect JTC Board Meetings,
We should hire talented people – that would diversify our department,
I hope she doesn’t stay in touch,

* No one noticed

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

People Who Don't Speak English Very Well Are Funny Volume 2

As previously discussed, those in this world that do not have a masterful control of the English language sure are funny. As luck would have it, one of our fans* sent us an agenda from a conference being held in China, where similar issues seem to prevail. Check it out:

07:00-08:00 Breakfast
08:00-08:15 Move from Hotel to Qinshan Phase III
08:30-12:00 Intercourse
12:00-12:45 Lunch
13:00-16:30 Intercourse
16:45 Return to Hotel

Now, I don't know about you, but when I read this, a few thoughts came to mind:

1) An hour for breakfast? A fucking hour? Have you been to a conference before? There would be, like, 5 minutes of eating and 55 minutes of awkward small talk. That's why you show up to the breakfast at about 7:50...eat some food, pretend to be interested in whatever inane shit the person sitting beside you has to say, and move straight to the...uh...intercourse.
2) Is Qinshan Phase III as good as Phase II? Because after Phase II, I remember thinking, "There is no way they are going to able to improve on that!" Oh, Qinshan - you've probably proven me wrong, again...
3) Shouldn't we be having intercourse at the hotel? Why are we leaving the hotel for the intercourse?

The bottom line is this - any conference that features 7 hours of intercourse a day is something that we here at JTC can fully endorse.

Secret: I'm kinda drunk,

*We have no fans.

Friday, February 01, 2008

e-Morons: 10th edition

It's been well over a year since we've posted any eMorons, so what the hell: