For those willing to learn,

My favourite rapper, The Ol' Dirty Bastard, died a few weeks back. And throughout these years, I have quoted him verbally and in prose.

Back in the day when the Kwyjibo Classic was an email newsletter (starting in the autumn of '98), I discovered alot of my fellow readers were not well adapted to the language of ebonics, which, like english, used the characters from the roman alphabet. Most of the words too were taken from english as well, only distorted slightly, or spelled exactly the same, yet meaning something completely different.

I loved ODB because he spoke in metaphors, much like the rest of his entourage, the Wu-Tang Clan.

the following is quite possibly Ol' Dirty Bastard's greatest song. The blue text in italics are the lyrics, and the writing underneath is the deciphering of it in plain old english. enjoy:

Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay
Look at me, I'm so happy, I am producing onomatopaeic sounds that describe my feelings for you
Gimme the mic so i can take it away
Allow me to perform in front of you and become the centre of your attention
Off on a natural charge, bon voyage
Although you may not believe me, at the current moment, my reactions are not drug-induced. I am on a "natural high" and there is nothing you can do to bring me back from this state of happiness
Yeah, from the home of the Dodgers, Brooklyn squad
Yes, I come from Brooklyn, New York, which was formerly the home of Major League Baseball's infamous Dodgers team, which has now moved to Los Angeles. A majority of my friends with whom I also spend a great deal of time with are from my hometown of Brooklyn as well.
Wu-Tang Killa Bees on a swarm
I am from a musical group that has taken it's name from old Chinese martial arts films that we grew up watching as children on the local multicultural channels. And similar to the Africanized honey bees invading North America, and who have no natural enemies (aside from cold weather) on this hemisphere, my co-workers and I will spread out our messages to you, the public, with ease.
Rain on yo' college-ass disco-dorm
Those of you living on the campuses of post-secondary institutions are probably already familiar with my work, as I appear to have a massive fan following there. Why, there is probably a student somewhere out there at this moment who is planning a party in their dorm on the weekend and as burning a few pirated copies of my songs on their hit-list cds.
For you to even touch my skill
To the many aspiring singers who attempt to imitate my technique and style, be forewarned
You'd rather f*%! this one killer bee
I will not be pleased with your attempts. However, out of my musical group, I am probably the friendliest person you shall meet. Perhaps we could turn our meeting into a healthy relationship and see where things will go from there.
'Cause he ain't gonna kill
Although I may get angry with you, I am not abusive. I prefer to talk things out first as i find words can be quite powerful.
Now chop that down
I am aware that you will probably quote me in future conversations, taking specific lyrics from songs that have had a profound effect on you
Pass it all around
Please share these lyrics and thoughts with your friends. Converse with one another and debate on the metaphorical meanings of my poems.
My lyrics get hard, quick cement to the ground
Do not, however, claim that these statements are your own. Because that is seen as a form of plagiarism and due to my contract obligations with the producers of my songs and albums, my lyrics are coppywritten immediately so as to give me the upper hand in winning legal battles if i do so choose to take you to the court of law.
I'll take any M.C. in any 52-states
My lyrics are greater than any other rapper of my style in the entire United States of America, so is my on-stage presence
I get psycho killa, Norman Bates
My performances cannot be comprehended, much like the mind of a serial killer. I must be seen to be believed, so please purchase a ticket to one of my upcoming shows.
Now my producer slams
The man who assists me in creating my songs (ie. finding the music and arranging film times for my videos, as well as marketing to my proper target audience) is unbelievably talented.
Goes like "BAM"
Ever since he has worked alongside me, my fame has skyrocketed extremely fast, similar to a gunshot, I would like to take this time to dedicate this song to him
Jump on stage, I wanna get down!
Now please, everybody, join me as I dance in happiness. I guarantee that you will not be disappointed.

So there you have it, I hope this has helped you in understanding the true meanings of Russel Jones.

aka. The Ol' Dirty Bastard.

"ain't no father to your style"

Close call:

So I was explaining to the class how the Sto:Lo nation practiced contract marriages for thousands of years. Simply stating:

“If one family claimed a land of high-bush cranberries as their own, and another family owned a perfect fishing spot on the Fraser river; they would get a kid from one family to marry a kid from the other family so both families could use both resources. This is called “contract marriages.””

Then a kid put up his hand:

“What if both families only have boys?”

Stop right there…. What do you say to a 9 year old when they ask you that?
A variety of answers ran through my head, and I started to see what my options were for a possible retort to that statement.

Think about it. The kid could be from a home where he has “two dads” or “two moms.”

Whatever I say next could possibly have an effect on the kids and parents and teachers for the rest of their lives.

I answered like so:

“Oh look! A Deer!!!”

I kidd I kidd, this is what I said:

“You see, the Sto:Lo nation is a Patriarchal society, do you guys know what patriarchal means? No? well allow me to explain, it means that the person is charge of the tribe or family is a man. Matriarchal means a lady is in charge. So if both families only had boys, it probably wouldn’t work out because both boys then would want to be in charge, and if their were only girls, no one would be in charge. So in this case, they would have to go find other families with girls to make a new contract.”

The teacher nodded in approval
I was just surprised that I pulled that off

PHEW!

Look what happened to me....

I remember back when I was 4 and telling everyone that when I grew up, I was going to be a bird. Being a blacksmith at a national historic site never really fell into the picture.

I'm 25 years and six days old.

All my sisters have finally moved out of the house. Just me and mom now. Peace at last.

My brother Shaun is set to depart on a 3 month journey to the land down under. And I'm gonna miss him. I didn't really think about it until my girlfriend brought it up. Even though we only see each other once a week, there's gonna be a three month term in there where I'll have to find something else to do. Perhaps watch movies on my own.

Now why are people bothered by the fact that i sometimes go to the theatre to watch a film on my own? I'm watching a movie, not having a conversation (unless the film sucks of course). I hate people who talk during movies, or the bastards that talk on the phone, and even the ones who just use their phone to look at the time during the darkest part of the film only to blind my eyes with the damn lights from their screens. BUY A WATCH YOU JACKASS.

Last night at the theatre was slow, so i killed about an hour of my shift watching "Coach Carter." A little "Lean On Me" mixed with "Sunset Park." I was hoping someone would die in the end, but overheard the manager on the radio looking for me so ended up missing the "climactic" ending. I think the movie would be better though if Sam kept his afro from Pulp Fiction instead of the bald head.

Dumb blond at the box office buying a ticket to Elektra looked at one of the charity boxes for the Variety Kids Telethon. Perplexed, she asked Charmaine (the box office attendant) "is that donations for the To Sammy?"
"To Sammy?"
"yeah"
"OOooooohhhh, you mean Tsunami! (stupid twit)"
First off, pronounce it properly Ms. I-wear-a-short-skirt-in-the-winter-and-complain-that-the-theatre's-too-cold (which she later did as well). Second, READ THE DAMN BOX! Third, if you can't read, look at the picture and then get your ass to school!

Apparently, The Communist (my sister) met a chiropractor from Edmonton who she has apparently fallen in love with and are in talks for marriage. Only thing is, my mom has yet to meet the guy. So what does Kruschev do, she arranges a flight for my mom and myself to go to Edmonton on the weekend of Feb. 5. Hence my return flight would be the next day (Feb 6).
Sure, i don't mind a little trip for family business at Ho Chi Minh's expense, BUT DID SHE HAVE TO CHOOSE SUPERBOWL WEEKEND??!?!!??

Working in the visitor's centre at work yesterday afternoon and received a phone call:
me- "Parks Canada, Fort Langley"
idiot- "Hi there, I was wondering if you could help me."
me- "sure thing"
idiot- "do you have the phone number for Go Banana's"
me- "pardon me?"
idiot- "Go Bananas?"
me- "sir, this is a Parks Canada Site. We deal with federal Parks and Historic sites"
idiot- "so you can't help me"
me- "i wouldn't have that number"
idiot- "do you know who might have that number?"
me- "try calling langley tourist info" (i give him the number)
idiot- "why would they know it?"
me- "because they would have all the business numbers in langley"
idiot- "why don't you have them?"
me- "because sir, we are a federal parks and historic site"
idiot- "well i suggest you guys start listing these numbers as well. you are here to serve the public, my tax dollars...."
me- "i suggest you buy a phone book. good day sir" (click)

he called back right after, but i had caller id on the phone so i didn't answer. i just let him leave a message on the answering machine. when i listened to it, he was yelling at the top of his lungs and couldn't believe i hung up on him.
i just deleted it.

Possible NRA Member?

Every once in a while, when reading a blog, i happen to click on the top right hand icon that reads "next blog"

i ended up here today: http://stevesfn57.blogspot.com/

frankly, i'm scared (and amazed) that someone would be so enthralled in such a thing.

i hope you're american steve, and live far far away from me.

The Best Example of Two Negatives Making a Positive:

This is one of the few rules in math and chemistry that actually made sense to me. For example:

These two (click here) together, created this (click here)!!!!!

Simply amazing!!!!

Start the countdown...

94 days to go.

U2 in Vancouver, April 28th!!!

After a night of heavy drinking, we end up at Denny's:

Geoff: "what the hell is that?"

Me: "that's the syrup for your pancakes"

Geoff: "Oh thank God"

Me: "????"

Geoff: "I thought it was a shot!"

Oh Vinny, what you did man?

So this past weekend, my friend Vince (who is also my manager at work and lives in my basement, making me his landlord) had his birthday. So our friend, Paul, and myself took it upon ourselves to celebrate this wonderous 24th year of Vince's life.

Vince is a sober dude.

He doesn't drink at all.

Up until this weekend, he could count all the alcoholic beverages he has had in his life, on one hand.

So what do Paul and I do? Well, we decided to take him to a strip-club in the heart of Whalley (T-Bars to be exact)

So we enter, the first dancer is on stage, we find a table close to the bar and get the drinks flowing.

About an hour passes, and Vince's eyes are glazed. We ask him if he's drunk, to which he replies "no"
so we ask him if he's buzzing and he says "little bit, little bit"

six shots later we expected him to be passed out, but he was wide awake and visibly drunk (although still refusing to admit it)

Paul and I then took this moment to acquire the services of a private dancer for Vince. Her name was Crystal and she was walking around in white lingerie (quite "riskay" considering it is the middle of freakin winter).

Negotiating her price, we came down to $40 for a three-song dance for vinny, or $60 for a three-song dance for vinny-mac WITH TOUCHING.

we paid her $80 american..... he was gone for nearly an hour. what happened during that hour behind that closed door is still a mystery to paul and myself.

when vince finally reappeared, he was visibly drunk, stumbling everywhere, and miraculously managed to make it back to the table without falling. oddly though, he walked right by our table and made a b-line to the ATM machine, with crystal right behind him.

he took out a questionable amount of money (we couldn't tell how much, we were pretty far away in the dim lit establishment) and handed it to crystal, who then grabbed his hand and led him back into the VIP room. needless to say, it was quite a humorous site.

finally, 20 minutes later, vince emerged and sat back with us. repeatedly thanking us for this great time he was having. so to celebrate this moment, we bought him 4 more drinks (one shot of black zambucka, two shots of whiskey, and a bottle of kokanee as a chaser)

paul emphasized the fact of "drinking slow" to vince, but before he could comprehend what paul was saying, vinny had already downed all three shots in less than 20 seconds.

HE WAS HAMMERED

the beer he used as the chaser was mostly poured on his face and shirt, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the bottle to pour in his mouth.

but of course, like any drunken idiot, "he was fine" just buzzing "a little bit"

for the next few moments, paul and i were distracted by an incident onstage. when we turned our heads back towards vince, he was vomiting on himself.

so i carried him out the back door and paul went to the coatcheck to get our jackets and now the good part begins.

i took on the part of being the one to drive him home.
having thought most of the puking was now done with, i carried ol' vinny to my truck (hank) draped his seat with an old towel, rolled down the windows and blasted the heat.

now having chauffered many drunks home in my time, i've learned the secret to prevent them from puking in your vehicle is to have a fast paced conversation. keep firing questions that the drunken idiot has to think about to answer, hence his brain is preoccupied with replies to the questions rather than the thought of vomiting in the car of your good friend who offered you a ride home.

we were a block away from home.

one block.

not even 200 metres.

and vince fell silent.

I looked to my right and saw vinny puking over himself again, INSIDE MY CAR!

I was like, "dude, to your right! the window's open!"
he shifted to the right, the top part of his head was out the window, but his mouth was still on the inside.

he proceded to vomit on the door (inside and out) as well as into the armrest, the side of the seat, and the compartment on the lower part of the door (which housed a cd case, now covered in previously digested fettucini alfredo, apparently his dinner of choice before the club)

at this point, i was flabbergasted. what was i to do. WAIT. i know, open the door. "open the door!" i yelled to vince, but the hooligander was lost with his hands, he could not find the handle, and i saw another heave coming on.

so i did what any new car owner would do, reached across and tried to open the door myself.

bad idea

bad
bad
bad idea.

he proceeded to upchuck all over my arm, the drinks, the pasta, everything.
and then he leaned forward with his mouth aiming for my vents!

all car drivers will know, that if something get's into your vents, it's virtually impossible to get out and hence the stink from this vomit would linger in hank for who knows when.

So i cupped my puke covered hand, put it in front of the vent, and vince then gushed out another stream, right into the palm of my hand, which deflected the puke right out the window. i didn't really mean for it to happen, i just wanted to cover the vent, but i guess god decided the punishment was enough up to that point.

We then finally arrived home, carried Vince back to his suite, made him strip down, threw his puke-stained clothes in his bathtub and sent him to bed. ( i checked up on him three more times throughout the night, he was still alive... but covered in more puke during his sleep) needless to say he was extremely hungover the next day.

after about 90 minutes at washworld during the wee hours of the morning with the temperature at -8C, i shampooed and vaccuumed the interior 4 times over and gave hank a good wash, making it to bed by 4:30am.

suffice to say, paul and i brought it upon ourselves, but this will be a memory for the ages.

my birthday party is this upcoming saturday night, guess who i'm going to get to drive me home?

Two A's

So it's not Rohan,

it's Rohaan.

I didn't find out really until i saw the spelling on his christmas stocking. Hello, i am the uncle.

a little info once in a while would be nice.

nonetheless, Rohaan has no different meaning than Rohan. just different spelling.

But by my estimates, he'll probably go through an extra pack of bic pens in his life just because of the extra vowel.

The Life Aquatic...

I can say this about the movie,

David Bowie songs sound good in Portuguese too!

Hola

I know it's been awhile.

But what can i say, i'm a busy man.
Just finished shovelling the driveway (again) but bless the snow and may God bless my 4X4. Albeit, i love BC and living in the lowermainland, but wow. We really can't drive in this weather.

less than 5 CENTIMETRES of snow and the whole place go bonkers. People sliding this way and that. what really ticks me off are the bastards who have the $$$$ rims on their cars and still choose to drive in them.

sure, many of them have said "when it snows, i'll just put my snow tires on. i have another set of wheels!"

well jackass, i think it's time. LoPros don't come in all seasons, GET THE HELL OFF THE ROAD!

I swear, when Hank (my nissan) comes to a complete stop, the cars inthe next lane, just go sliding into the intersection.
so lemme get this straight, you spent more $$$ on your wheels so your car can be weaker on the snow?

so this goes out to all of you who still have the rims on your car in the snow. time to put on the ugly wheels and have some control for once.

and don't tell me you didn't know about the snow,
the weatherman was actually right for once, and you had at least a weeks notice

get on with your punk self