Big Fat Hairy Living

Mark and I went to Allan Gardens on Saturday to see the Victorian Christmas flower show.

I really would like to learn how to be a decent photographer. Digital cameras make it easy to show off only the best photos without spending money to get lots of film developed, but I’d like to learn what I’m doing.

Someone who is 21 years old, whores himself, and likes to have sex with animals (yes, actual animals, not just people in fur suits — though he’s into that too) wrote to me after I mocked him because, in response to a comment I wrote in a Livejournal community, he wrote that “hairy guys are disgusting.” (Those were his actual words.) This is his letter:

And you are a worthless fat ugly tiny dicked slob who’s dating someone old enough to be their father. Get a life and go find someone else’s community to troll, next time maybe you’ll think twice before mouthing off to one of the owners of the community.

Oh and for the record, if you email me again or attempt to contact me again I’ll sign your ass up for every motherfucking piece of spam on the internet.

Have a nice life fatty. Enjoy not being a member of cock_talk.

My first reaction to that e-mail was anger, but after a few seconds thinking about it, I actually started to feel sorry for him.

I’ve done some pretty awful things. I’ve been horrible and hurtful to people on the internet and in real life. I’m deeply ashamed of so many things that I’ve done that I can’t begin to list them all. But that’s got to be one of the most hateful things anyone has ever said to me.

Rich yuppies hate the homeless (not that that’s news):

A Toronto church’s plan to feed and house 12 homeless people one night a week during the worst of the winter has been put on hold after residents of a tony Beach enclave threatened it with a legal injunction.

As part of the Out of the Cold program, which is run in churches and synagogues across Toronto, the temporary shelter was to have opened Jan. 8 at St. Aidan’s Anglican Church on Silver Birch Ave., at Queen St. E.

[...]

Toronto lawyer Peter Silverberg, who has acted for the objecting Beach residents, denies they were motivated by NIMBYism in threatening the church with legal action.

He said they were concerned about having been given scant opportunity for consultation and whether the program provided the best use of limited shelter resources.

“The program itself is very praiseworthy, although it might be questioned on the level of whether or not this is the best way to use … very limited resources to look after this type of thing.”

Silverberg, who would not say how many residents objected, said there might be better sites in the Beach for the shelter but he believes they were never examined.

Why do the rich always dress up their disdain towards the working class and the homeles in the language of consultation and democracy? If the church in this story were planning on having big wedding ceremonies once a week for twelve weeks, would these rich yuppies want to be consulted? Would they be so concerned about whether the church was using its resources in the best way?

Nothing is more annoying than someone who thinks he’s being much more clever than he really is. Case in point: Some guy who thinks he’s blown wide open a horrible scandal involving low-calorie hot chocolate. (The URL of the blog, http://basicallynonsense.blogspot.com, gives a hint as to the quality of its content.)

Wow, look at the serving size of each hot chocloate packet, he says. The light hot chocolate has 13 grams per packet, and the regular has 28 grams! They just put half the amount of powder in each packet! And scandal upon scandal! Commenters point out that the fat content is the same and there’s more sodium in the light version! Clearly there must be some kind of clever scam going on here! President’s Choice has managed to fool gullible shoppers into drinking “light” hot chocolate that’s just diluted by half!

Some common sense and a quick look at the nutrition facts and the ingredient listing for the two hot chocolate products explains the differences between the two packets easily. The fat content is the same and the sodium content is almost the same because the weight difference between the two types of packet is almost entirely sugar. The light version doesn’t have half the same powder as the regular version; it’s different powder with no sugar in it and a tiny bit of extra salt, no doubt to enhance the flavour since it’s lower in sugars. Read the ingredients list: the light version has no sugar but has aspartame instead. The regular version lists sugar as the first ingredient. Because aspartame is much sweeter than sugar, it doesn’t take 15 grams of it to make the chocolate sweet. That’s why the packet weighs less.

It really doesn’t surprise me that someone can’t read a nutrition facts table and interpret ingredient listings, and it probably shouldn’t surprise me — but it does — that he parades his lack of knowledge on the internet for all to see.

Next time you want to try to be clever, Paul, you might want to actually read the entire product label first. Nothing is more annoying than someone who thinks he’s being clever but really isn’t.

I just got home from a visit with Mark to the Royal Ontario Museum to see the special exhibit on 20th century Italian Art and Design to discover a voice mail message from work on my home phone. My manager called hours ago, and apparently there’s some kind of “crisis” which requires my immediate attention. (I use crisis in the business sense of the word, which is to say it’s not a crisis at all.)

Oh well. Time to take a nap!

I’ve been wasting away my vacation by sleeping in, surfing the net all day, and snuggling with Mark as time permits (his job hasn’t stopped, and now I get to hear him complaining that he doesn’t want to go to work). The only time I thought of work was earlier this morning when I thought (à propos of nothing) “Stupid fucking conference call assholes.”

The highlight of my day was shopping at Loblaws instead of No Frills and discovering their new (to me) diet pomegranate sparkling soda. Later I will be fucking a bottom slut cub. I wish all my days could be like this.

They’re not happy at work that I’ll be taking the next two weeks off, so they’ve been making little jokes all morning. The business manager asked me how I’d handle being bored on vacation for two weeks when I could be having such fun at work. Later this morning when my manager thanked me for submitting a completed test report, I replied “Any time.” His response: “But not next week.” You approved the vacation, you live with it, bitch.

Just a few minutes ago, one of the other managers — not my direct manager — just asked me to be on a conference call next week. I replied by saying “Sorry, when I’m on vacation I’m on vacation. No work talk. Zero. Sorry.”

Normally I’m not that emphatic with them, and if they hadn’t been making wise cracks I might have even considered calling in. But as it is, I will still have two unused vacation days that I will be carrying over to next year. Fuck these assholes.

The Doctor’s chocolate: reduces sugar cravings.

The Doctor: increases sperm cravings.

I’m going back to Nowheresville, New York at the beginning of the week. Since I have the last two weeks of the month off, that means I’ll be back in the office for only two days next week before I have a huge break of fun time.

This time I’ll have the opportunity to meet sluts to fuck and piss on — and go to Target!