Things Can change

I like kids. I have always liked them. On Sunday August 29th at around Four O'clock Pm. I became an uncle. My one and only sibling had her first baby on the weekend. I went over to her house on Monday night to see my niece for the first time. She is precious and tiny. I held her for an hour or two before my sister had to take her and feed her. A few things came into my mind that night. One was that little Avery Nicole Kinaschuk has the longest fingers I have ever seen on a baby. This leads me to believe that she will be a famous composer and musician. I also realized that although most of us had been hoping for a boy, this little girl will be the best female golfer ever. She will be a straight A student and get a scholarship to the finest US university around.

At that point I had to stop and think. If she goes off to university there will obviously be boys there. Actually she will face the pressures from jerk boys like her uncle from as early an age as twelve or thirteen. That gets me pretty riled up. I know I'm being a huge hypocrite but for now I have to believe it's my right. I'm not saying that I'm "gods gift to women" or some kind of "Babe Magnet", but I do what I can and have been known to love 'em and leave 'em. Up until this morning I was pretty satisfied with my life style. I've been set in my ways for a few years now. People have come and gone trying to show me that I can be much more. I should use all my potential. I have never really listened. It took only 7 lbs and a few ounces to change my mind. I'm not the type to get scared easily. I guard my emotions well. After all every man is an island. This morning, I'm scared. I might be scared for the rest of my life, because there is something out there that I believe in. Something I care more about more then myself. My niece. My Avery Nicole Kinaschuk. They say that babies are little miracles. I don't doubt that anymore. And just think, this isn't even my baby. Well now I am terrified. Did I just admit that I want to have a child someday. I have to go think about what I've just said.

Later.
James

Obscene Jesting

It's not what you think. This is a story about a cat. Not your average run of the mill slightly neurotic cat but rather a subject for Schizophrenic daily. Those of you who do not like cats or animals altogether should stop reading now. That was your first and final warning.

My parents brought home a cat that I had hand picked at the young age of five. She was the pick of the litter (in my opinion). She had the given name of Muffing Mix because of her coloration but that quickly morphed into muffin. That later made the (obvious???) transition to smuffles, smuff, stupid, tupid and in her autumn years because of going deaf a firm stomp on the floor would get her attention. She lived a long and I hope comfortable life being waited on hand and paw. She had two litters of kittens which she mothered as well as any human could. Taking extra care of the runts, making sure everything was safe and secure. It was one of the more sad times in my life when she finally died. After 19 years of my mother cleaning kitty litter and hair balls she had decided to not replace her. I was fine with that since I have become far to busy to supply the daily love and attention a pet requires. Things in the Harris household were moving very smoothly and pet free. I remember the blustery June afternoon when I was on the golf course. A freezing chill ran up my spine on the 8th fairway. I ignored it, figuring that it must just have been nerves from the less then stellar game of golf I was having. Knowing what I know now that chill should rather have been a sharp pain in my big toe.

I got home from the golf course by mid afternoon and found my sister and her husband at my place. Apparently they have decided to breed offspring and my once pet free living area was once again occupied. I asked where our new pet was so I could get acquainted with him. The story unfolds that when they opened the "happy pet carrier", Timmy the twenty five pound fur ball scurried off down the stairs to the basement and they hadn't seen him in hours. That was an understatement. He was completely MIA for a full three days before one of use caught a glimpse of him in the middle of the night. We suppose he had been out lurking when we slept before that but there was no proof since none of his food had been touched. I was really very shocking since I had forgotten that we had a cat at all, and to see a gleaming set of eyes pierce through to my very soul at three in the morning woke me up in a hurry.

Since then it has been one random encounter after the other. For a week this abomination of gray fur took to only letting itself been seen on the stairs in the evenings. In it self that would not be so bad, however he also wanted to be under your feet and between your legs. After my third fall up or down the stairs I decided that this act would eventually get us both killed one day. I started hissing at him. He would hear someone coming up or down the stairs and run to get in the way but when he heard my hiss of disapproval he would move to the corner of the landing. It got to the point where he would run to the middle landing when I got home and get me to pet him there. Those times where good. Little did I know he was about to switch. About a week into our being friends I tried to walk past and not pet him. That was the invisible line in the sand for us. The little bugger bit me in the toe. So I kicked him in the nose. We both hissed at each other and went on our way. That was the form of our relationship now, when Timmy saw me he tried to bite me. I quit altogether being civil. Why should I risk my hand trying to pet the Mr. Hyde this cat had become. I figured I would sit back and wait for Dr. Jeckle. For a while there I wore my running shoes around the house to protect my feet.

I got home from work it was a day like every other. I quickly looked around for the demon cat before taking my shoes off. There he was lying on his back waiting for me spread eagle. I didn't think cats could even do that. He was lying on the exact middle of his back with all four legs stretched out gentiles exposed to the world. This latest personality in the cats thinks it's a dog. He actually expects me to rub his tummy, I'm worried about what will be next, leg humping? Playing fetch in the park? I just got one of those cold shivers again. I'm scared to go home.

James

The funniest thing ever?

You may have heard on one of those common interest new casts or read somewhere that the funniest punch line ever recorded to most men is, "wrecked him, damn near killed him." While I agree that is the height of hilarity even if there is no known set up line to do justice to it. I think it had to be left that way or the resulting joke would be so funny that men everywhere would be rendered incapable of living and the human race would cease to exist. I have found something which in my humble opinion is a close second. The second funniest thing known to human kind is my white ass gleaming in the sun. Now I had known a portion of its comedic value for a while now but until this last weekend I didn't know it was show stopping funny.

As promised in my first article I said I was going away for the weekend to a cottage of a friend, and that I was going to bring home a story or two to tell. We stayed on Lake Kashabog near Havlock two hours North East of Toronto, and thankfully far away from the Hamilton smog. I love it up there. The clear night where you can see the type of stars that inspire poets to write for years. The type that make you realize just how small you are in the grand scheme of things. I think everyone needs to have their world shrunk down to a speck so we can get perspective again. Suddenly getting a raise at work doesn't seem to make as much sense as holding someone you love. Buying a new car can wait, you would much prefer a warm blanket. Time, now that keeps its value. None of us seem to have enough.

Now that I'm done my little aside we can return to the ass at hand. I got bright and early on Saturday morning , (ahem 10:30) and went out in the boat to do some well deserved fishing. For me it's the daytime equivalent of star gazing, lot's of quiet time sitting in the sun watching the water ripple. The only non relaxing part is when you accidentally catch a fish. Or at least I thought that it was until around noon. A family of boaters came by the secluded little bay I was hiding in. As it turns out they were out so the 4 pre teens they had with them could do some tubing. I understand the lake is public property and they have as much right as anyone else to use it. But in a lake so large that it would take several hours to boat around and go into each bay and inlet, why should they have to pick the one I'm in to whip these poor kids through? After about the 9th time they ripped through with 4 screaming kids trailing not far behind I decided I'd had enough. I waited until I could hear the motor coming around the far point and I dropped my pants. Not right to the ankle or even knee for that matter, I didn't want to be obscene. I stood in my boat my back to the lake and continued fishing pants resting around mid thigh. In to the bay raced the boat and I thought no one even noticed until I heard one of the poor girls on the raft scream, "oh my God". Behind my back the motor cut out the waves subsided and still I heard nothing. Oh I knew they were still there, but now I was beginning to get worried. I was debating pulling up my pants, maybe even looking over my shoulder to see if maybe the intense gleam of my ever so white rear end had blinded someone. The roar of laughter from the men in the boat can't be compared to any other sound I have ever heard. Now that the silence had been broken each voice came into the symphony of human reaction. All the girls in the tubes began wailing about the grossness of my rear. The shrill screams of "GO GO GO" will forever be etched in my memory. The wives of the men piloting the boat gasped in horror, I'm not sure if it was for my ass or the reaction of the two men who were by this point wheezing for breath to continue laughing. I heard the motor roar back to life and begin to fade into the distance. The last thing I heard was a (cat call) whistle. I kept fishing without seeing or hearing another person for the rest of the day. I finally headed back to the cottage and as I docked the boat my friend came out to meet me. "Where did you go, did you see the guy fishing with his pants down, the kids next down were freaking out about, what are grinning at? Oh man no way! You have to keep that thing away from people."

You see he knows the power of my ass. It has come out a few times before this one, but I think that maybe those should be their own stories.

In the Begining

I first read a blog because of a link I found in an article by Bill Harris. I had no idea what it was. (I'm still not too sure). I do know that I want to write, be read and be enjoyed for my take on the world around me.
So let's get down to my view. I think for starters this should be light and breezy. Lets take a minute and get to know me. I'm 25, live in Canada and I love to make people laugh. It's almost a fault, as most of my friends would relate. I tend to use sarcasm and humor as a defense and a shield. It's worked so far, why change a good system. Right?
It's getting late in the day and since I have decided to post from work (don't tell my boss.) I should get wrapped up for the weekend. I'm doing one of my favorite things this weekend. I'm going up north to relax in the summer sun and do some fishing. I hope to have some amusing or eventful stories to tell you when I get back. I may even try to tie two coconuts together and get on the net up there.

Enjoy your weekend they only come every 5 days!