It happend this night. I switched

I was about ti wrute a new blog post this Tu

Restart. I had the auto correct settings slightly wrong. I’m happy with my choice to change my own normal. I both love and hate change depending on how much notice I have. I can not however livecwithout change.

The greatest stories of our life begin with change. Your universe expands.

Let’s get serious.

I need help, and I honestly think, for the right person with the right smile that changes me and … I lost the word.

No. I delayed long enough for the original thought to flow down my stream and now I have to decide. I want to tell the one I can share in public.

Fuck. That sent shivers. I will not share this on the public blog without edits.

Idea. I will edit all these and for a book forward with propped edits to make it less maniac, maniac at your door, because she’s dancing like she’s never danced before. However the first draft of always be available forces change one as an according option.


I am getting excited that a small trickle of people have seen this blog.


I insist on sticking to the titiliar topic. I only learned that word recently. It scored two points for a word I’ll use, and 2 bonus points because it has to in it and people will smile when they hear it. Some words get points just because they’re fun to say or flash memory to sex.

The old ha ha… He said Uranus humour.


This is an historic moment. I have been impressed with my last cool gadget buy from China back when I was carefree and wanted things. It was a cheap windows 8 tablet that could dual boot in old Android.

I loved it, and promptly upgraded to windows 10 with a 128gb memory card back when it was free. The tablet worked fantastic and never gave me issue, except some internet connection issues that were common among these China cheapie. My first try buy failed in 3 weeks. This was my second try. I think 199. Maybe I lost $220

I love it.

I looked at the Android boot and it was old ugly icons that reminded me of my first 49 China Cherokee tablets. I never went back to Android because I already had my phone and the Nexus 7 in my bed  this tablet was iPad size, but thin and light.

So what changed? I opened my blog page in chrome and started to blog. I have actually cool Bluetooth keyboard I could easily buy and resell or just review. It’s special.

I looked down. It had not capitalized my sentence. It had not fixed anything. It highlighted the words it could recognize as wrong but some were just not in the database. I sighed. Oh yeah.

Just then it hits me. I’m not using windows as much as Android. Ding… I think, I can make that ugly Android look modern I get. I downloaded the new Google now launcher, and essentials. This tablet is amazing in bed. I can use the fantastic Gboard keyboard with Google search and bitmoji built right in. It’s way faster than WordPress was on thereunder 10 OS.

I also have the hard keyboard. If I look, I may even mirror my Samsung here.




Memento Blogging

I just realized my Blog is like the movie Memento. It can be read backwards, and you learn what everything means in reverse, eventually. Imagine if I wrote it as a book, but one that was designed and styled to be read backwards. You start at age 100 with the current blog, and it reads backwards. Nothing makes sense until you read more.



Eric the half a bee.

As I was falling asleep with my mouth slightly open because if the congestion when I heard a bee. I can’t be sure that it was a bee, but it was certainly louder than an average fly. It might have been an above-average fly. Superfly? I’ve seen some really big flies over the past few years. Not science fiction horror movie big like the spiders, but the flies that would have made the football teams in fly world.

I listened for a while as it buzzed around making that strange sound that insects make as they jig Jag back and forth in different directions. It seemed to be staying in the air longer than I expected, has insects often fly from place to place but never for very long in the air. As Time passed, I started to think, maybe it’s not a fly. Or Abby. Maybe it’s some electrical sound that I haven’t heard before. It almost sounds like a man shaving his beard at 3 a.m.

Then suddenly I realized. It must be the lady upstairs using her vibrator.

I was able to fall asleep without the fear of an insect in my mouth.


America: 30 seconds at a time

I’ve always been fascinated with people watching.  Seeing smiles on faces energizes me like sunlight energizes Superman. I especially like seeing different cultures and how the react tio the same things, and observing different towns and communities and noticing the subtle differences.

Sometimes it’s the little things, like the change of a font on the street signs, or how some cities handle their stop lights and advanced green signals that amuses me. Sometimes it’s more cultural.

I live in Ontario, where we’re known for bagging our milk, and thinking Toronto is the center of the universe. Apparently I also say “mouth” a funny way. A woman from Seattle once told me I was free to say mouth any time, as it brought her smiles.

One of the unique properties of a Southern Ontario upbringing in the 60’s and 70s was having a much wider TV selection than most places. In many US cities, they had ABC, CBS and NBC in the early days. Living where I did, with a metal antenna up the side of our home, we received those US staples, but also Canadian networks CBC and CTC from a few different cities. Later, we expanded to include Global and CITY TV. When I was 13 or 14, I actually had almost a full section of 13 channels. Most of North America had 5 or less.

In the days before Cable TV petitioned for the rights to replace US broadcasts with Canadian simulcasts, this meant I could watch the major US TV shows on Canadian channels or US channels and see the difference in culture through their commercials. It has always fascinated me. Local culture is always best displayed through commercials. I’ve been a fan of those differences.

Today, I don’t get as many opportunities to witness American commercials. Almost all the shows I can watch on cable are streamed with Canadian commercials, even on the American channels. It’s rare to get to see a show with the US feed, either from Buffalo, Chicago or some other US city.

Today, while watching a show called Rosewood, I happened to record a later version which airs after midnight on a Fox affiliate. Usually I record the 8pm version on a secondary CTV channel from Hamilton.  At first, I didn’t notice anything different, as I fast forwarded right to the start of the episode. During the running of the opening credits, I was surprised to see a “FOX PRESENTS” banner above the title. Interesting I thought, as we don’t see that version here, and it looked like it was a poorly added graphic overlay that was done later, but a different graphics team. Perhaps the Detroit Fox affiliate likes to self promote. I can’t knock them for that. Here in Canada, the competition between networks is getting fierce, and I’ve noticed we’re doing the same. Almost every show starts out with a banner from the parent company now. Sadly there are fewer, as almost all TV in Canada is presented by only three companies. Since many people also download, adding a branding to the credits makes sense.

Where I really noticed the change however, was at the very first commercial break. I paused to write this blog almost instantly. The very first commercial was amazing to me. It was for Lyrica. A medication so bold, it even has lie in it’s name.

Fibromyalgia. It’s one of those semi mysterious conditions that is often diagnosed to people who are sore or tired without obvious explanation. For this reason, it is somewhat controversial, and is often over diagnosed to people. I know almost nothing about it, so I am aware I may offend legitimate sufferers by saying it’s not always a real thing. I accept that judgement. I am a pain wimp, and I don’t want to belittle anyone’s else’s agony.

I did however, find the wording in the commercial almost comical. It’s obvious lawyers are terrified of the litigious American market, but still want to advertise. We have very different last in Canada, and have substantially less medication marketing allowed. I have no doubt if the laws were different, Canada would be flooded with similar ads, but for now, it remains a very America thing. Commercials in the USA are shockingly fear based.

After a few shots of very depressed looking worn down women discussing their loss of energy, they proclaim their doctor has prescribed this drug. These words follow above a “DRAMATIZATION” of a purple body figure with lots of interconnected lights flying slowly around a figure; “Fibromyalgia is thought to be the result of overactive nerves. Lyrica is believed to calm these nerves.  For some, Lyrica can significantly relieve Fibromyalgia pain.”

I found this statement to be very well crafted to indicate, for most, it will do nothing. They don’t actually say anything. The product is a theory, or at the least, something that only works sometimes because nobody is really certain what Fibromyalgia is. Following this, is the nearly 15 second list of side effects the drug may have. These include trouble breathing, rash, hives, blurry vision or suicidal thoughts or actions. The most common side effects however, seem to be the exact effects described 20 seconds previously as the symptoms of Fibromyalgia.

They end the long list with; Don’t drink alcohol. and the text; Lyrica is not a narcotic or antidepressant. I especially love the words; Those who have had a drug or alcohol problem may be more likely to misuse Lyrica, meaning any problems resolution in addition are your fault, not theirs.

Drugs ads are hilarious to me, as a Canadian. Sometimes the listed side effects are longer then the promotional or beneficial descriptions. Drug companies just need enough time to tell you you’re probably sick and should ask your doctor about this drug. Then blah blah blah blah blah for the rest of the ad. I understand all these side effects are listed on the package or a sheet inside the bottles, even in Canada, and I understand it’s a law, and probably even a good idea to have them clear in a commercial, booth for health and legal reasons… but it’s still funny.

The commercial ends with the tag; See our ad in HEALTH, which I assume is a magazine.  The commercial ends with photos of the worn out ladies now enjoying a camping trip with her family, and the next commercial begins.

It’s an add for a credit card, aimed at terrifying you about scam artist contractors, and how their product tells the truth. 1% Cashback. It neglects to inform you of the interest rates. I was almost surprised it didn’t have a long disclaimer with it, or at least teeny unreadable text… but I guess banks have a better lobby group against being honest in ads about the downsides. It was only a 15 second spot anyway, leaving hardly enough time for a fast talking announcer to say something like; “credit card companies may cause financial grief, loss of relationships and/or everything you own. Do not use while intoxicated or after 4am. Side effects may include suicidal thoughts or actions”.

The following ads were more national, and similar to Canadian ads, although the Glad garbage bag ad was still quite fear based. It solved the problem of your mother smelling a stink when she comes to visit. You need Glad Garbage bags to eliminate that odour. Not having glad bags may result in suicidal thoughts or actions.

It didn’t say that in the ad, but like many US commercials, that side effects of suicidal thoughts or actions if you don’t buy their product, or elect their candidate or ask your doctor about their medicine is implied. Maybe the solution to America’s suicide violence problem is just getting the right garbage bags.

End of Part 1.


​Mandatory Political Opinion Blog

It seems natural that everyone who blogs and perhaps, who breathes, should have some form of political opinion about the 2016 Election. People who have lived through more than one in their interest years has to agree this one is unlike anything we’ve experienced in the United States, and more than any other, It has drastically educated half the people. We’ve learned that the other half, are way more ignorant that we could have every known.
I have been heard speaking previously, that I had never actually met and respected, anyone who seriously utters the words; Jesus Christ in my Lord and Saviour. If I have, they have politely, and smartly, kept that a secret from me.

I’m not sure I’m ready to accept a friend that believes in magic, and by magic I refer to miracles and supernatural things in the Bible. If you believe the Bible is true in any way, or believe it is OK to hate because of the words in the Bible, then I don’t want to be your friend. I can’t respect that you would believe religion to be true.

I will respect you even less, if you attempt to engage with me any sort of justification. You either believe that your 2000 year old fairytale is somehow an accurate history of creation or you lie.

I can respect people who lie and belong to church. I understand it comes with a lot of benefits to belong to a church.

I believe the greatest invention of all time was Church.
The worst invention of all time was religion.

Society function better with a polite, respectful community for the whole family. When church is presented as a community gathering where people share stories and lessons it is great. It’s only when you teach to hate the church next door, and that your stories contain any more power than a comic book story or an episode of Star Trek.

Everything in our universe is just the story we’re told,
and the stories we tell. Reality is presented in story form.

If you tell an origin story of the universe, and want us to believe it is true, you have to prepared to convert, convince, bribe, or kill anyone with a different story. I’m fairly certain the Bible was a storybook. It would have been an epic movie, if they’d had the technology.

I heard a rumour somewhere that Bible actually translates to “Anthology”.

The political reality show of Trump vs Clinton in 2016 is a story. It’s a story everyone and everybody is talking about, and telling different versions. In some cases, hearing totally different versions of the same story. It is fascinating to watch, especially if you live in Canada and have slightly less fear of the very possible Trump win.

I have had a theory since the very start of all this. I believe that American politics is almost always a scripted story. The whole idea of a two part democracy is placebo. Democracy is a popularity content designed to keep a nation reasonably happy, and not revolt. It is designed specifically swap places every generation. Some times it flips in 4 years, and sometimes 8 and occasionally 12 or 16.

One side has a set of policies and believes and the other side takes opposition. By flipping sides every few decades, we manage to get everything done, and not upset anyone enough to revolt. The Democrats do stuff the Republicans hate, and the Republicans pass laws the Democrats wouldn’t. They can show opposition and claim they fought for it, but in the end, almost everything gets done.

Although it seems to have been worse for our first black President to get many of his initiatives passed, I believe at least in part, it’s because he was passing things Republicans actually agreed on, and preferred to take credit under their power on the next swap. Republicans were sore losers that the first black president was the one that finally brought in a workable healthcare system, after everyone else just promised it in their speeches, and failed.

I believe that Hillary really wants to be President. She wanted it before Obama. She wanted to be President so bad, and she lost out to a black man, in a country where a lot of people are still very prejudice. They elected a black man over a woman.

During that time, Hillary was a clear loser and began a reputation of negativity. From my perspective, it seemed not to be fairly deserved. There is an obvious double standard that woman are only respected if they seem “womanly” and those with confidence are deemed bitchy or unlikable. Hillary isn’t a TV celebrity beautiful person. She is a politician. A good one it seems.

I believe people in power told her she’s lost to Obama, and would probably not get a second chance. Not enough people liked her.

Imagine for a moment, a political strategist who knows she’s make a good president. Washington has pre determined that a Democrat can have a third term because The Republicans screwed up pretty bad previously. A plan it hatched.

“How can we assure a Hillary win? We need to put her up against a sure lose candidate.” is the question in the room.

“Ted Cruze. Perfect. He is the most unliked Candidate we have. HIllary will win against him.:

“I don’t know… he policies are in line with Conservatives, although a bit over the top, but people will vote the party line, even if they hate him”

“You’re right. We need to create a monster from outside the party that will be so bad, even our own party will vote for Hillary… or not at all. But who?”

“Mel Gibson?

“Donald Trump?”

Oh… that’s Goooood. I bet he’d do it too. He likes Hillary. They’re friends. IF we let him advertise his steaks and hotels, I bet he’d do it.

“The comedians will have a field day….”

Everything he’s done, only makes sense if he’s trying to lose votes… but the American people are shocking. They’ve secretly waiting for their first representative President. For their entire lives, they’ve never paid attention to politics. They’ve never voted.

Nobody realized how many stupid people exist in the USA. It’s staggering. People who just pick and choose what they want to believe, and stick with it, against any resistance.

“Donald Trump is my Lord and Saviour”

I am reminded of the film; Life of Brian, where a man is falsely accused of being a profit, or the Messiah, and there isn’t a darn thing he can do to disweigh his followers. Donald Trump has literally said he could shoot a gun down Wall Street and not hit any of his followers. I believe he could actually hit any of them, and not change minds.

The absurdity of the street interviews of proud followers who are admittedly clkuessless on a single fact, except the fact that they love Trump, and he’s right and you’re working. Hilary is a liar.

One of the most fascinating discoveries in this social experiment gone wrong, is that perception Trump’s reality and fact. This is a secret power I’d hoped to be the first one to reveal in my book one day, but the cat is out of the bag on that one. Trump has shown one half of the nation that the other half would rather listen to a story yelled from a celebrity they trust, and facts, and even when presented with proof, they still choose the story.

EVerything in our universe is the story we’re told.
and the stories we tell.

The fact is, stories have always trumped facts. The story is whet gets spread, and it becomes the truth, replacing whatever reality might be.

Just be sure your story isn’t contradicted. You don’t want to have to kill anyone for correcting you.

The simple fact is, a good story wins. I’m fair play certain George Washington never chopped down a Cherry tree and didn’t have wooden teeth, but there are millions of people that will go to their grave believing that, and it really doesn’t matter. The best story wins.

Trump has realized, whether on purpose or by accident, that you can even say people perceive this to be true, so the truth isn’t important. He’s used it is his campaign when talking about crime. People believe what he says, and even to the absurdity of getting his followers to hate Hillary for being a liar with 3 examples. Trump lies repeatedly about absolutely everything, but tells the stories in a way you want to believe.

The best story wins. You can’t sway his followers. In much the same way they may never have p[aged attention tio an election before, they don’t want to hear the fact checkers. They tune to Fox for the after debate praise.

I’m a little sad to see the hate slinging. It’s nearing danger. The purpose of the two parties is to get things done, but as we create more and more hate and social mistrust of the opposition, the closer we come to that history lesson we repeat. We could see war in the United States again.

We could see violence if God-like dictator Trump doesn’t win.

We may not believe the system, much like when the Bush people had to make up stories when the Democrats almost took that win. Whoops. Somebody went off script. We may never know which side was supposed to win.

We may never know this time. I believe in my heart the votes don’t really matter except to appose the public. It doesn’t seem logical every single election in the USA is 48% 52% or similar. Even with the structure of how voting works, it just doesn’t make sense.

I’d hate to see a close election this time around, but it’s certainly possible.

Christianity survives. People are not only content to remain ignorantm, they have pride in it. They wear their Jesus necklaces, and their Trump MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGIN hats, and even wave their Confederate flags.

It’s not me, it’s you.

I often wonder if they wouldn’t;’t be better as two countries… but they need each other.

Special needs.

Whatever the outcome, America will survive.
It’s the greatest show on earth.
I hope they paid Aaron Sorkin well. I’m fairly certain he wrote all of 2016

In North Korea, that statement would be illegal.

Micro Disappointment 

​I learned the term Micro Expressions from TV a few years back when Tim Roth starred in Lie to Me. A crime drama where his team used facial expressions to figure out if people meant what they were saying. 

I believe that I have been using that concept, without knowing the name, for many years to detect emotions and reactions in the faces and body language of the people in front of me. 

Sometimes people’s reactions are sincere, and sometimes less so. If you tell a person that there is a surprise party behind that door, some will be able to fool the majority of people with a staged reaction, but micro expressions may give them away if you know what to look for. 

I seem to know what to look for, at least some of the time. 

Today is a Tuesday and the burger combo is on sale at the local Hooters restaurant.  This is a chain that uses pretty waits taffeta to appeal to people who like that sort of thing. 

When I enter the place, my eyes quickly scan the room to catch a view of these pretty women, and choose a favourite. At an establishment like this, there is usually a variety of looks and styles in the staff, although all are women and most have nice hooters. Still, it’s always easy to pick one as my favourite, even on a slower Tuesday afternoon. 

My eyes catch a beautiful woman by the bar, but her eyes do not see me. 

I take my seat and patiently wait and see who serves me, hoping it’s her. I don’t really chant over and over; please be her, please be her, please be her, but my desire is clear.

With such predetermined hope inside, it is understandable that my face may reveal disappointment when a less attractive waitress two tables away indicates to me; I’ll be right with you. 

It is important to note that nobody is really unattractive at Hooters, but certainly it’s ok to admit men like different things, and I had really had my hopes set on another. 

My waitress happed to be a dark black woman with a very shiny face and narrow features. Not really my personal preference. 

As she approaches me, I do best to maintain my happy smile. I do not find her attractive at all, and although my visit here today is based more on their burger and curly fries on sale, I won’t deny it’s always a mini thrill to be served by a beautiful fun and friendly face. 

I wonder if pretty girls have mastered the skill of micro expression detection, or if they care. Does my waitress know I secretly wished for anyone but her to serve me? 

Sigh.  Another useless worry I have created within my own mind. Tanika was as polite and friendly as any other would have been and our interaction together was pleasant as always.  I order my burger, and distract myself by writing this. 

Now our time together is over. I’ll be back again some Tuesday in the future and try my luck again. 

I’m obsessive about not being OCD

When I talk about being obsessive, people tend to jump to the conclusion I mean Obsessive-compulsive (OCD) and quickly correct them. Recently, I started to reevaluate whether I am OCD or not, because the more I obsess over it, the more the lines become blurred. 

The photograph above shows my obsessive collection of the center cardboard from every toilet paper roll I’ve used since I moved here almost 3 years ago. It is an OCD style ritual, but I don’t need them to be in any straight order. I think its possible my brain is rebelling against OCD in an ironic way.

Like all mental illness, every brain is different and the diagnosis comes from somebody who just counts enough symptoms to say yes. 

I am more obsessed over things in my brain than the TV style that needs me to touch the doorknob 4 times before I leave, but I do suffer the internal agitation when I am forced to skip one if my rituals in much the same way.

As a simple example, if the fabric chain Fabricland is seen or mentioned, I must sing its jingle. It’s a simple enough routine a lot if people share, but inside my brain, I’ll actually be bothered fir quite some time if I don’t. Even as I write this, I am almost obligated to sing it. 

FAAA BRICK LAND, Fabricland! 

There are many other little rituals I follow in my daily life that I did not even notice until a friend told me I was OCD. 

I’m not OCD I barked. I’m just obsessive! 

Then again, I remember when my very first therapist told me;  A.D.D isn’t your problem Jeff , you’re obsessive.

It sure surprised me, until I had some time to obsess over how obsessive I actually am.