Driving south on the 427 late Saturday afternoon I didn’t expected to find myself in British Columbia that evening, but there I was touching down at Vancouver International Airport at 1:00 AM.

Then 1:00 AM suddenly became 2:00 AM as the clocks sprang forward to start Daylight Savings Time. Or to end it. I’m never quite sure which. Why don’t we just tilt the Earth a little if we want more sunshine?

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“That’s Lincoln’s watch,” he said after putting it down, “and my ancestor wrote graffiti on it!”

–Doug Stiles, great-great-grandson of Honest Abe’s watch repairer.

Cake class last night (yes, cake class, let’s move on) was pretty hilarious because of the introduction of a small box of “DIY Cake” — a little sewing kit for making a single slice of fake cake out of felt. The cake features “100% natural sweet love” and you can “take your action right away!” 

I don’t know what that means, but I am pretty sure I want my action right away. Who wants to wait for their action? Not me.

The ingredients listed on the side proclaim that the cake is made of 20% heart, 20% sugar, 20% flour, 20% egg, 20% chocolate and 20% butter. Yes, it has 120% ingredients, which is probably why you can take your action so fast. With all those yummy ingredients, it’s pretty clear why this cake is “real delicious creamysmooth.”

My new name is DJ Creamysmooth. I’m available for weddings, bah mitzvahs and yacht launches.

I just read a BBC report about the world’s fattest man getting married in Monterrey. He met his sweetie while he tipped the scale at over 1,200 pounds and was engaged to her less than two years later. As a quick reminder, I don’t even have a date this weekend.

So, even a guy who is ”only able to leave his house by being towed through the streets on his specially-made bed” has a more successful love life than I do. Terrific. ;-)

I’ll tell you who: ME!

I just read Wil Weaton’s (spoiler-free) review of an early screening of The Watchmen, and it makes me even more excited to see it.

I wish I had a tail just so I could wag it right now. You say “Watchmen!” and all I hear is “Walkies!”

I’m slowly fleshing out this new blog design. Still no RSS feed and such, but I’ve brought a couple of pages back online: my Bookmarks and my List Of Things To Do Before I Die.

Speaking of the latter, I only accomplished two measly items from the list in 2008:

• Get a tattoo
• Learn to dance

On the other hand, I added more than two new lines to the list last year so technically my progress was negative. Drat. Bad show, old chap. 

For 2009, I’m itching to scratch a lot more than just two items off my list. (See what I did there? “Itching to scratch.” Thanks, I’ll be here all week. Tip your waitress. Try the veal.) I’m pretty confident I can do at least these:

• Build a radio
• Go camping by myself
• Take a hot air balloon ride
• Wade in a public fountain
• Chop down a tree with an axe

Those all seem pretty easy, right? I’ve been told that chopping a tree down with an axe is harder than it looks, but then again that’s what they said about neurosurgery. And I’d better get moving on building a radio while there’s still a broadcast left that hasn’t exchanged air waves for web sites (feel free to sing that to the tune of either “Big Yellow Taxi” or “Wish You Were Here” according to your retro decade of choice). 

I’d also like to get to at least one of the travel destinations. Some of those places (e.g., Mount Rushmore, the Algonquin Hotel) are easier to ride a Vespa to than others (e.g., Easter Island, the Ruins of Pompeii), but I’ve got two passports and a building sense of wanderlust.

In the meantime, I think it’s time to go axe shopping. Anyone need some firewood?

Last night I was practicing a set of Cha Cha and Rumba figures when my dance instructor said, ”OK, try this: Natural Top into Fan, followed by a Hockey Stick and then a Turkish Towel…”

Hockey Stick? Turkish Towel?! Oh, come on. It was at this point I realized I’m not learning Ballroom dancing, I’m being punked. 

I can’t believe it’s taken me almost two years to catch on.

Mouth: ”Sure, I’ll install the upgrade for you. It’ll only take a minute.”

Brain: OK, hand, let’s take the iLife ‘09 DVD out of it’s clear envelope and put it into the MacBook Pro. 

Hand: You got it, Brain! It’s you and me, buddy. Hey, wanna pet a dog after this? Or maybe plunge me into a sack of beans like Amelie did? Didn’t that look cool?

Hippocampus: Here’s a memory of seeing that movie at the Cumberland Cinema. And here are some Audrey Tautou images. I’m standing by to free associate on the name Audrey: the gal who introduced us to our first girlfriend, Audrey Hepburn, the Audrey Two plant in Little Shop of Horrors–

Brain: No, gotta focus. Hand, don’t touch the DVD’s surface.

Hand: I’ve done this before, Brain.

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The idea came to one of us at the end of last year. Two words full of hilarious promise: pajama party.

I don’t know if it was Lorry or Sandy or me who first thought of it, but let’s face it: since the basic idea was that two beautiful gals and I would spend the evening snuggling in pajamas and watching movies, the smart money is on the idea having been originally mine.

We had our pajama party on Friday night, and it stretched right around to early Saturday evening. It was heaps o’ fun. Like a little cottage vacation filled with food and  laughter and great talks and hilarious friends. There is already talk of a sequel with even more people.

Some fellows would have worn sweat pants and a gym logo t-shirt to impress the ladies with how macho they were. Some fellows would have worn silk boxers and a soft robe. But then again, some fellows weren’t invited to the fun pajama party so some fellows can keep their fashion tips to themselves.

I wore bright yellow footy pajamas with a bum flap! Yes, an actual bum flap with two big buttons. And the PJs had little fire trucks, police cars and ambulances all over them. I got them from here. I felt like Pajama Sam and it was awesome with a capital A. And a capital every other letter too.

I can’t stop saying “bum flap.”

My older blog blather (dating back to circa 2003) can be found in the old archives and the other old archives.