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My Second Last Wife...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 806
Talking with the Chef, nothing important, and he refers to "My Second Last Wife...". Which struck me as a curious turn of phrase, I didn't ask how many there were all told, but it followed him telling me he'd changed his phone number to avoid bill collectors, who were calling him at a rate of 10 per day...
File this all under "Too Much Information".
Jaded
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1382
Every day, an hour at least, on the internet, looking for something to inspire me, something of interest, anything...
The news. I've become a bit of a news junkie, the days headlines (condensed, as it were, to reduce the boredom):
Another schoolyard shooting, police cower outside behind their cars waiting for shooter to give himself up. President says he would have run in and subdue shooter with his bare hands.
And it's boring, just another fucking day, and then I reflect upon it, and all the other non-events that I've read about, and I realize that I'm becoming just a bit Jaded.
Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Kootenay Style
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1341
It's a different place, for sure.
I mean, there are people that have lived here 30 years and don't have winter tires or four wheel drive. It's insane. There are few places on earth where it would be more important, yet they still don't, haven't gotten around to it, can't afford to, other priorities...
Crazy.
And there are people that hold down regular jobs by hitchhiking the 20 or 30 KM to work a day. Hitchhiking is considered a reliable means of transport.
Crazy.
If you own land and have a bunch of abandoned trailers or school buses you're a fucking landlord.
Crazy.
But this is the best, and the one that I hear most often (and am frequently guilty of myself, showing a dire acclimatization...) -
"What day is it?"
Meaning what day of the week of it is it. If you were to do a Kootenay-Styled "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" you'd open with that question.
Then you'd follow it with "What's the date?" and I can tell you there's nobody here that would get the answer to that question without checking at least one or two of their lifelines.
Then, finally, for a million dollars, you'd ask them the year. Because, hell, if they knew the day, date and year they'd let you keep your million dollars, out here, if they could answer all three of those questions on their own they'd be millionaires on their own initiative...
Memory: A Swimming Pool with Crabs, Plastic Plane, Disney
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 872
One of my earliest memories, living with my mother, a high rise apartment somewhere in Victoria, cereal for breakfast, a plastic jet surprise inside that I could keep.
This excited me.
And outside, on the balcony, a shallow swimming pool filled with water and sand and all the little creatures I had gathered from the beach, crabs, starfish, that would soon die, I was too young to understand the consequences...
A small T.V., black and white, the Wonderful World of Disney, looking at it over the kitchen table...
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