The Weather Channel has it all

Who needs to watch the soaps? My windows are showing all the variety I could ever want. Cloudy, cloudy with light snow, windy without snow, snow squall, and finally sunny with blue skies.

Montreal doesn't get enough white-out blizzards, to my mind. Seeing my first one of the 2003 season (as brief as it was) made me nostalgic for my old hometown of Ste. Foy.

Maybe I'll go shovel the walk and remember blizzards past.

(and no, I'm not going to shovel your walk)

Even eggs have their limits

While camping over the summer, I was introduced to a wonderful form of scrambled eggs which involved maple syrup. Previously, I didn't like scrambled eggs so I never made them (I think it was because my mum added milk to the mixture). Since then, maple syrup scrambled eggs have become a mainstay.

The other day, I ran out of maple syrup, so I substituted honey instead. Not bad. Then, encouraged by my experimentation, I poured some Porto into the mixture, hoping for a more European flavour.

I should've taken the color the eggs took on when I mixed it all together as an evil omen.

*blech*

Question Period in the House

let's walk in the: Winter Wonderland
let's run through: this rehearsal one more time
who are those: freaky-looking pagans
what a nice: pair of hotpants
where did all these: jobs disappear to?
when will they: stop looking at us?
where is: my next lucky break
why can't you: focus on the moment
easier than: pie
closer than: ever
look at my: eyes and tell me what you see
i'll stay if: you ask me softly
silly little: goose
show me some: hope
the sky is: clear and sunny, so let's have a picnic
tell me a: story
hide me: behind your couch
love me: the only way you know how
my mom thinks you're: unknown to her
are you: ready to hear the unbridled truth?
i missed: you these past few days
can't you: admit what you're feeling?
lovely little: princess

Thanks to bevie who answered the questions first.

Outta the Mouth of a Babe

My bud Jane had a good suggestion about my blog. Imagine!

Whenever I talk about people on this blog, I usually refer to them by the first letter of their names to preserve their anonyminity (I've been taken to task on the alternative occasionally). If the person has a blog, then I usually use their name with a link.

But if I talk about two people with the same first name, it can lead to confusion. Therefore, à la Jane's suggestion, I'm going to come up with fake names for these people. I'll try to make them bizarre enough so you can know this is probably not the person's real name (like referring to Tom as Tiberius).

I'll have to keep a file to keep everyone's name straight. If you'd rather I refer to you with a bizarre name, let me know.

Last Minute Note: There's a new virus hoax going around that tells you to delete a file on your system called jdbmgr.exe (I've received three emails about it so far). Before you email me this thinking that you've been infected, read this. It's not real... it's a hoax. *Sigh*.

Split Second Decisions

I was finally able to catch Beau Kavanaugh and the Broken Hearted at Brutopia again last night. I saw them once about six months ago and since then, I kept missing their shows for one reason or another. I really need to get my Beau K CD back from R.

At one point on my way back from the bar with a fresh pint of Brutopia's fine Raspberry Ale and a Scotch Ale for my friend Eric, I crossed a girl who really knew how to make a statement. Only women can get away with stuff like this. She was wearing a pair of black hot pants which were really nothing more than a pair of black underwear. If I walked around pantless with my Daffy Duck boxer shorts lighting the catwalk aflame, I'd be soooo arrested and thrown in the Mexican Prison section of the local hoosegow.

By the time I got back to our table, I looked over to wear this girl was heading and she was now standing on the booth bench, bent over, while another girl spanked her in a theatrical manner. I commented that this was a hellava time not to have my digicam, so visiting D at the table handed me his.

By the time I got to the girl's table, the spanking session had ended but she was still gyrating provocatively. I asked her if she minded me taking a picture, so which she responded "Sure!".

I looked down at the camera for a second to locate the viewfinder and when I looked through it at the girl, I was more than a bit surprised when I noticed that she had stripped off her shirt and bra. Tanned titties bared for all to see. I very nearly dropped the camera (but not before snapping off a couple of pics).

I talked with her briefly (she wanted to see the pics). She was celebrating her 30th birthday that day and that she worked as a stripper at the Super Sexe. I always wondered what strippers did on their nights off (I figured they stayed home and built castles out of papier-maché).

Now I wonder if D will actually send me back those pictures. I know his wife was none too impressed with the provocative display and I'm worried she might insist that the pics be deleted. No one will believe me if I don't get photographic proof.

I'm not sure how this type of thing keeps happening to me. I'm not saying I constantly have strangers exposing themselves to me in the Erotica section of the Chapters bookstore or anything, but I've had more than my share of unique situations to adapt to.

I love this town. You just never know what's around the next corner.

Seasonal Screwies

Over the holidays, I spent six days in Quebec city surrounded by at least three feet of snow everywhere. That's a bit lower than usual (which should be four to five feet of snow), but it still makes for a white Christmas.

And then I come back here, Montreal, the tropical island of our Belle Province. No snow. A bit of ice. Seasonally balmy weather.

When I first moved away from home to Sherbrooke to attend university (at the Unversité de Sherbrooke), it threw off my seasonal clock not being surround by four feet of snow from November to April. And even after all these years, I still can't get used to it.

I'm an Autumn-Winter guy. I'm not a huge fan of Spring (too muddy) and I like Summer insofar as there's lots more to do (especially in Festival-ridden Montreal). But by far, Autumn is the most beautiful time of the year and Winter has a magic about it that I can't define.

Maybe that's it... maybe the amount of snow is what defines the magic of Winter. After all... if it's snowing out, it's not that cold really. And there are few things more peaceful than a heavy snow blanketting the earth (one of those things being colorful leaves falling from the trees).

Sure sure... Winter has it's downsides. Freezing rain, any temperature below -15, wind factor, slippery roads/sidewalks... But then again, there's skiing, skating, snowball fights, sledding, snowmen, Winter festivals, and the appreciation of warmer interiors.

But what's the point of Winter without snow? More snow, I say! I'll gladly bundle up in the warmest of sweaters to sift through mounds of the white stuff! And any nay-sayers will get a snowball to the head, so beware!

Hang your hat, wipe your feet

Welcome to the New Digs! The Pooh Logs have now changed to Tales from the Hobbesidian Order. As some of you may know, Hobbes is my nickname in a few circles, so I'm experimenting with that.

There are a few things I still need to fix with this new look, but I'll be fixing that as I go. Thanks to Bevie for the basic style sheet and all her help! You rock girl!

So... any thoughts?

Out with the Old...

And with the new year comes changes. Hell's Bells... there better be some changes 'cause I'm not going to be able to live with the situation as is. I've got my receipt and I want a refund, dammit.

So I've been working on my new design for this blog. I was going to put it in a new place, but in the interests of laziness, I'm going to leave it here and just radically change it's design. Hint: I won't even call it the Pooh Logs any more!

In the meantime, let me raise a toast to you all, my dear readers, and wish you a happy new year in 2003. Let's take what we tore down and learned in 2002 and build a humdinger of a life for ourselves in 2003.

I think we've all built enough character. It's time to reap some rewards. Cheers.

Ask and ye shall receive Pooh

It's amazing what people search for on the Internet. It's even more amazing that the Pooh Logs keeps delivering what they want to see!

• naked men dancers montreal (Google #6)
  
• toyota matrix sulfur smell (Yahoo #2)
  
• pooh smell (Google #2)
  
• bill boobs boobies bill billegible (Google #6)
  
• Blogs babes (Google #9)

You can't say I don't take you to the best places!

The Old Homestead

Even when I lived here, I always picked a day once a month (usually a Sunday) and walked around Old Quebec. There's always so much to see.

And I was surprised when I was walking back to my car near Place Royale when I saw a storyteller! His name was Bernard and he was telling the story of La Chasse-Gallerie (which has always been one of my favorites, but I have yet to tell that story myself). I spoke with him afterwards and he told me that there were regular storytelling meetings in Quebec! Unfortunately, they are held the third Monday of each month (making it more difficult to attend when you`re away). I`ll have to take advantage of the time off to be in Quebec on a third Monday.

It may also motivate me to translate more of my stories. I`ve got three of them translated now, but I need to work on this project more. It would really open many doors in this province (and away) to be able to tell stories in two languages.