– Guest Post Writer Struck Down by Un-amused God.  ‘Enough with the shenanigans’ says He.–

While reading the news this morning I came across the following article where the current Pope suggests that in order to fight AIDS in Africa, condom use should be stopped, to be replaced with abstinence.  Not *absinthe* which would have been super cool for a Pope to say.
http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/World/2009/03/17/8778981-ap.html

Anyhow, turns out, this decree was made on the Pope’s plane.  PLANE.

It should be noted that in fact, the Pope doesn’t own a plane, it’s chartered.  No custom mile-high baptisms.  However, there are other things the Pope owns:

1. The Papal Tiara.. er, there are several… tiari.2. The Popemobile.  In unrelated product-tie-ins, the car is a Mercedes.

3. King Henry VIII’s divorce-request letters.

4. High-high Fashiony Goods.

At Press Time, it remains  unclear if the Pope owns a Pope Sprinker. If he has any self-respect, the answer will be yes.

Hikey McLeaverson. HAHYK-ee mick-LEEV-er-suhn (v.) The act of going out of or away from a location; generally related to the weekday afternoon act of departing from one’s place of employment.

Example: See below.

–Offended wealthy dowager crumpes, swoons, proclaims “my stars!”–

Apparently there is no real law against people doing exceedingly stupid things to and with their cars. Working in an 8-storey structure housing a variety of knowledge-based companies and their associated employees who – it stands to reason – are full of “knowledge”, I presumed that I would be immune to the following, yet, it turns out, I am not. In fact, the other day, I found the newest means to send me over the deep end into a rage-filled flight of fancywords.

Past winners:
A. The Super-window-cling

B. The Super-tissue

New champion:
C. The Super-marvellous-paint-job-of-awesomeness

This car – parked on the top of the multi-story parking garage, no less – displayed a full-fledged-flaunting of the norms of civil society with its use of a) colour, b) fencing, c) mythical creatures in frightening poses and d) inappropriate vanity plates (not shown for privacy… but let me assure you that it was both hateful and poorly spelled). Frankly, if it weren’t for the existence of the Seven-of-Nine-PT-Cruiser, I would deem this the craziest car in history.

In a concerted effort to eat healthy and waste as much of my money as possible, I have become a fan of Lettuce Eatery, located conveniently in two foodcourts near my cubule. These eateries, as it were, are generally managed by one person, defined by their lack of apron, who orders their salad compiling minions to and fro depending on customer fancy.

And who better to give orders and know you’re going to take them than Christopher Walken? That’s right, despite what you may have “heard”, Christopher Walken is currently fulfilling his destiny by running the Lettuce Eatery in the TD Building food court in Toronto’s financial district. I know. Wow.

Roaming Reporter Jeffxa has suggested that for the purpose of investigatoryism, some sort of documented evidence should be obtained. A picture, or maybe even a quickly drawn charcoal sketch. Anyone who knows anything about Christopher Walken knows that there’s no way this can be done and the safety of our person preserved. So, instead, we’ve created the following near-identical representation:

And, in the interest of science, here’s some ‘math’ that clearly ‘proves’ that the presence of Christopher Walken at my local salad eatery is not just some fanciful notion floating around in my cervelle:

little green bag = reservoir dogs = tarantino = pulp fiction = christopher walken.

– “Take this!” shouts vengeful God while pumping fist –

By Roaming Reporter Jeffxa, Defender of Safety First.

About one year ago, almost to the day, it was deemed by me – trusty and full of hope as I was – that Humanity was not doomed, as a nice lady saved my briefcase and associated wallet-based contents from disaster by a) picking them up, b) notifying me of her find and then c) providing all the goods back to me with no reward taken beyond a hearty thank-you and thumbs-up.

http://duotangoflies.wordpress.com/2008/01/25/investigative-report-guest-post-humanity-doomed/

Well.  Turns out that she just got the worst post-Christmas gift ever.  A Toronto Police Services cruiser… parked, sort of, in her living room. 

Also, it turns out, the police officer managed to avoid the samaritan, but killed her goldfish.  Lousy cop cars.  What they should have used are the amazing cop super-horses which can overtake Audis.  That is, of course, assuming that the fish-o-take-out-o was not the actual objective.

Regardless, the moral of the story is, if you do somebody a nice favour, better build some kind of huge safety wall around your house, because once the MAN hears of your nice deed, he’s going to even the score… with prejudice.

*big ups to The Toronto Star and Wikipedia for the photos.

Fooferra. foo-FER-ah (n.) A situation engulfed in chaos. A state of comedic uncertainty and confusion.

Example: “When Jimmy stated to the EMS attendant that the epipen was in fact filled with Kool Aid crystals, a minor fooferra resulted until Jimmy admitted that, in fact, he wasn’t allergic to bees at all.”

This edition of Falsi-Lexi was brought to you by Jeffxa, Roaming Reporter and defender of  determinism masquerading as randomness.

– In other news: Audis are driven by total losers –

Coming home from dinner last night, I witnessed what had to be the single-greatest thing in the history of the universe: an Audi A6 pulled over on Queen St. in front of Trinity Bellwoods, waiting patiently for his ticket.  The ticket was of course, being written up by one of Toronto’s finest*, who of course was sitting on his trusty police horse.

HORSE.

A guy in an A6 allowed himself to be pulled over by a policeman on a horse.  How does that work and how could you ever explain that to your friends? That is absolutely awesome and clearly the whole SuperHorse program in play down at City Hall is paying dividends.  Go team.  Frankly, I feel safer.

* I also assign this title to: Toronto EMS, Toronto Firefighters, and DQ Blizzard servers. Note: big ups to Toronto Police Services for the photo.

Mugabe Confounds Onlookers:”Down with the British! Down with Jeffxa and his GuestiePosties”

People.  If you have ever wondered if there was something wrong with the world, well, you’re officially right.  Despite my extensive training* and Objectivist leanings, I have come to despise the Dow Jones and all those who invest there (i.e. everyone).

From the news I was perusing this morning - http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/7354266.stm - here are some facts:
- Citigroup just announced a loss of $5,110,000,000.00 (+/-)
- Investors responded by… buying their stock and sending it up: “Citigroup shares rose 6% to $25.46 in pre-market trading before the official Wall Street open”

Allow me to assure everyone, if I managed to bungle a project to the tune of the entire annual economic output of the Republic of Guinea, I would probably NOT be given a raise of 6%.  In other news, Guinea’s main exports include Bauxite… and corn… which indians refer to as “maize”.  Another famous indian was Crazy Horse.  In conclusion, Guinea is a nation of contrasts**.

* note: I know that stocks are valued looking forward, so don’t be that smug jackass who tries to make that point
** bigups: BBC and Wikipedia

Tealitist (n.) – A person who believes in rule by an elite group of tea producers, and enjoys a sense of entitlement whilst drinking said tea.

Example: “We have crates of Red Rose per our Mr. Coffee coffee supplier here, so I have deemed it less than stellar. I only tea drink tea procured from a wood paneled store owned & operated by Indian expats with 1 million varieties in very small glass jars.”

As seen above, tealitists in their natural habitat. Note the signs of wealth (feather boas), and obvious superiority (balloons).

Mildly Dull-Witted Statement: 

“The good thing about my street is that it’s a quiet little side street, but it’s real easy to find on mapquest.”

Snappy Responses:

“Much better than those tricky moving streets that are just impossible to nail down!”

“I’m still trying to figure out how a) quiet and b) ease of finding are normally not associated.  my last place at the centre of a labyrinth was super quiet, except for the sound of spartan heroes battling my pet minotaur.”

“Ohhh… see, the mythical labyrinths are the worst for trying to find on mapquest. I’m pretty sure Davie Bowie set some kind of enchantment on mapquest. “

*SNAP*