Scrubbie

Gee-Whiz 20

2010-06-27T21:05:00.003-04:00

Grow up for frack sakes.

Howdy boys & girls. Tiz an appalled Scrubbie here.

Now ya'll know I try not to rant too much. I mean, who really cares? Lets face it - the 'ol Scrub blog aint the place to come and find the latest news or glean insight into life and politics. I am VERY sure you have other places to go and find out that stuff. Scrub just ain't that clever.

We kewl on that? Ok.

So - all the bigshots of the world decided to pop on in to us here in the Great White to have a little chit chat about what's goin on in the world. Well... either that, or they're just gettin' together to have a coffee and hang out for a bit. Ya know - catch up.

In private - you gotta wonder what they say. "Hey - hows the wife?"

"I hope they're not serving fish for lunch."

"Maybe this'd be more fun if we all had Vuvuzela's."

"Check out what he's wearing."

Listen - I'm all for free speech. (Those of you visiting from places afar - it's pretty kewl here. Basically you're allowed to get together in groups in public, say what you want, whatever. As long as you do it peacefully and don't get all up in someone's face sorta thing. You should try it.)

And, here in the Great White - while all the big shots are parading around - there were lots of folks that were hanging out with signs and loud-shouty-things protesting this and that. It's kewl. It's all good.

Then - outa nowhere - come these arseholes. Dressed all in black. With their faces covered. Coward bastards. And start smashing windows. Tipping shit over. Breaking everything they can get their frackin' hands on. They even torched a couple of police cars. What the frack!?

Ok - so here's the deal:

1. It was mayhem. For no reason. Didn't your mothers teach you how to play nice?

2. For those that were protesting and demonstrating and getting their messages out peacefully - I'm really sorry that these dicks got in the way. Seriously - I apologize on behalf of all of us who were respecting what you were doing and listening to what you had to say. I'm sorry your actions got overshadowed by dipshits.

3. Likely more than half of these idiots were not protesting. They were not demonstrating. They were not trying to solicit attention to a worthy cause. They were not trying to effect change that would better the lives of people here in Canada or abroad. They were not trying to communicate messages that would improve and preserve the environment for our children and grandchildren. No. They were likely just breaking stuff for the sake of running amok and giggling that they managed to get on TV.

To all those who came to Canada to participate in these big shot meetings - as participants, as witnesses, as security or as media to share the event with the world - I, for one, am truly embarrassed that this behaviour went on and I apologize to you.

We Canucks are, for the most part, a pretty decent lot. We generally open our arms, our hearts and our homes to prit' near anyone - whether you are looking for help or just crusin' through. We have a bit of a reputation for being polite. Hey - there are worse things we could be called.

In the end though kids... it comes down to this -

I think it's great that we can bitch and complain. I think it's wonderful that we have the freedom and the right to express our opinions. I think it's really bitchin' that we can publicly share our ideas and solicit the support of friends and neighbours to get the ball rollin' to effect change in our world.

But - don't go breaking other people's stuff and making us all look like arseholes. You DONT have the right to do THAT.

T-minus 36.5 hours.

2010-06-27T08:18:00.004-04:00

If nothing else... we are consistent.

Morning kiddies - yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Ok - so the wife and me.... we have a Kid.

Darlin' beastie, he is.

The kid - he's 13 right now. Comin' up to 14.

And, the Kid... is just closing out his school year of Grade 8. Here in the Great White - we call this "middle school". Sometimes it's referred to as "transitional school".

In Scrubs corner of the country, all the kids leave their elementary schools at the end of Grade 6 and all truck on in to a centrally located building that is their "middle school".

It's the weird little hump of Grades 7 and 8 where all the kids are too old to be cute, too young to be useful, all of them are hitting puberty so their all goofy, clumsy and stupid.

It was, it seems, the best solution, to keep hoards of hormonally transitional morons contained for a couple of years while they get themselves somewhat sorted out.

Anyway... the point here is that the Kid is graduatin' 8th Grade. He's practically done. Tomorrow, Monday, is his official Grad ceremony. Tuesday, he and all the other hooligans are going off to one of Canada's great amusement parks. Then.... that's it. Done. Finito. Finished.

This has happened many times. Not the amusement park. (well - we have done that many times. not what I mean though). Referring to Graduating. Graduating has happened many times. Kindergarten to Grade 1. Grade 1 to Grade 2. Grade 2 to Grade 3. You get the idea.

Not every year has been filled with pomp and circumstance like this one.

This year - it's a fancy affair.

This year - we are all headin' off to one of Scrubs' local village gathering halls - rather fancy and big one - and there, the Kid will parade across a stage after hearin' his name called, to receive his diploma and then he'll be wished good luck as he moves to high school in September.

There'll be music. Food. Fancy furs and skins on everyone. Lots of photos being taken.

And this, boys and girls, brings me to the topic of the day.

See - For many years... well since Kindergarten.... The Wife and me have been snapping pics of the Kid.

That includes at this time of year when the lad is making his strides forward from one schoolin' grade to the next.

I wont bore you with all the pics. But, I'll describe a few of them.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, laceration across the chin.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, stitches below the eyebrow.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, black eye.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, fat lip.

Are you seeing a pattern here?

The Wife and me - we almost gave up.

Every grad pic - the Kid has an injury somewhere. Family/Childrens Services would have a hey-day with this mountain of evidence.

Yes - we almost gave up.

Almost.

But, this year rolled along - and there was a glimmer of hope. We're but a mere 36 hours from graduation.

We're counting down the hours.

Then - it happened.

10:30 last night.

36. 5 hours from graduation.

It happened.

The Kid - busted up a digit.

And one of the good ones too.

Up to the hospital.

X-rays.

Pretty pictures of a bone with a crack in it.

Crazy-ass splint on the finger.

And, another picture of our son. Handsome, cute, smiling, busted finger.

Look out Grade 9. Here we come.

Hey Buddy. Would you mind not parking your black hole on my lawn?

2010-06-05T07:38:00.006-04:00

*Squeal!

Morning Scrubs, Scrubettes. It's yer old pal Scrubbie here. How are ya?

He's here! He's here! *Scrub sings while doing a little jig.

Ok. I admit it. I am a bit of a geek. But - c'mon... you gotta admit. It's like having a bit of a celebrity right here on the front step of the Scrub Shack. Uber Geek Stephen Hawking - here. Right here. Right HERE!

I can practically feel my own quantum atoms vibrating a light speed, I am so excited!

Huh? You don't feel it?

Hmmmmm. Kids - this guy is not only an Uber Geek; not only THE premier physicist; not only super-cool when it comes to theories of Time and Space and the cosmos.... he's been on Star Trek: The Next Gen!

If dude there were to outfit his wheelchair with a sliding red eye-light, paint it black and call it KITT - It'd be like Knight Rider Steve Hawking. Frack. I'd pretty much switch teams and marry the guy.

Yes boys and girls - Scrubs fair little 'burb here is all a-buzz with the Einstein of our generation being right here to swap brain-spit with other smarty-pants at the local think-tank. It really is quite exciting.

On the other hand - crazy cat lady a few doors down continues to let her beasts run amok (oooooo - 'amok'... "Amok Time".... episode of Trek, the original series.... 2 Trek references in one posting!!!!! I'm gonna need a cold shower if this continues.)

It's not that I don't like cats.

I hate them.

Scrub's a dog guy.

Dog people generally dont groove with cat people.

Oh sure - cats are cute. When hollowed out and used as slippers.

Oh relax. Scrubs not one of those people that would do harm to the little beasts. I just don't like when crazy cat lady lets the wee buggers roam 24-7.

They leave little cat presents frackin' everywhere. Know what I mean? Blech.

Then there's the ever present sight of one of the critters strolling like it's queen of all things - with a bird in it's mouth. Argh.

And while on the topic of elevators - Scrub and the Wife are gonna be providing assistance and support to the Wife's mommy and daddy - Scrub's outlaws - as they prepare to relocate themselves from 10 stories up to only 3 stories up. Well - 3 stories up with a helluva nice view. Yep - the outlaws are moving. So - it's off to their place to pack up their knick knacks and move 'em down a few floors in their apartment building to a really nice spot with a nice nature view rather than the parking lot view. That's happening tomorrow.

Today - The Wife and her gal pal the Joodster are doin' their scrappy thing at a crop in a local burb.

Me - think Scurb's gonna fire up the grill and sear some meat. Scrub is always happy when searing meat.

Oh kids - Saturday is upon us! Now go - love your Saturday. That's what I'm gonna do.

Oh the Irony

2010-05-31T15:29:00.004-04:00

Every now and then... somethin just comes back to bite ya in the ass.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol pal Uncle Scrub here. How u doin?

Dont ya hate when somethin so innocent... so innocuous.... so well intentioned.... comes back to haunt ya?

Check out this ad from 1999:

Yes kids. THIS makes me giggle.

Oh - before you send the hate mail... the whole oil thing doesn't make me giggle. The ad makes me giggle. We all good? Kewl.

So - what else we got goin on?

Well - for one thing - to Scrub's neighbours to the south in the good 'ol Red White and Blue - Happy Memorial Day.

Weird, eh? "Happy" Memorial Day. That's not right.

I hope ya'll have a good Memorial Day.

Nope - that's not quite right either, is it?

Perhaps... simply.... it's Memorial Day.

Here in the land of Red and White, eskimos and igloos, snow and pretty coloured money - we have something similar. It's not for a while yet though.

Here's what I got to say about it all:

Whether you agree with the fact that guys and gals who are neighbours, friends and family are off in some locale somewhere - beating heat, exhaustion and, more often than not, kids barely out of diapers playing with explosives instead of Tonka toys - whether you agree with it or not - days like today are not for complaining, protesting, demonstrating or generally bitching. Days like today are for honouring those who themselves have chosen to step up, step out and make what they believe is a difference for their loved ones and their country.

Everybody should go home at the end of the day. Ya know - you wake up. Shower. Go to work. Slug it out for a few hours. Then - go home. Grab a glass of water. Sit in the comfy chair. Complain about a customer or a co-worker. Eat some grub. Watch TV. Go to bed. Do it again the next day. The point is - you go home.

Days like today are for honouring those that didn't go home.

Days like today are to remind the families of those that didn't go home - that their loss wasn't for nothing.

Days like today are for hoping that one day in the future - we won't have days like today.

For now though - we do.

For now - we have people (more kids, really) - who have stepped up to make a difference.

Thank goodness they do because gawd knows - I wouldn't. Just don't have the balls. Know what I mean?

So - there it is.

Now - having taken a brief moment there - I shall now return to preparing myself for the coming thunder bumper storm and will now batten down the hatches.

Goodbye.

Trucker, Grumpy Ex-Fireman and B2B.

2010-05-30T20:06:00.002-04:00

Weekends. Glorious. Simply glorious.

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya doin?

Weekends. Fantastic, eh? I know. Sometimes - it's all pleasure. Sometimes - it's a weekend of the "honey-do" list. Either one is ok with me. But - now brace yerselves... - this weekend was a bit of both for Scrub! It's like the best of both worlds.

On the workish front - Scrub took to doin' some arbour work. Ya know - trees and stuff. Out front of the Scrub Shack - we have this tree. Big fella. But, there's a few branches here and there that have simply given up the ghost. Dead. Bare. So - grabbed me one of them saw things on the end of a long pole and went to town.

Helluva slug that was - but I gotta admit - things are lookin real nice outside the shack right now.

Then, on the happy front - it was a weekend filled with seared meat on the grill, music, good times with the Wife and the Kid. Yep - nice all around.

Oh - and last night - The Wife and me cleared some space outside and had a couple of the neighbours over. Wellll - it was mostly a couple of the guys 'round the neighbourhood that stopped by. Bottles and glasses in hand. So - sat around till stupid hours of the night enjoyin cocktails and having a few giggles. Last night - we had Trucker over. Beside him was grumpy ex-fireman and to round out the batch was B2B. Huh? oh - ya... guess I should fill ya in.

So - as ya'll know - Scrub enjoys a full cast of characters, pals and whackjobs around him.

Trucker - one of the nicest guys you could ever meet. Yes - a trucker. Not one of them sleazy truckers. Blech. No - this guy - real nice.

Grumpy Ex-Fireman - name pretty much sums it up. Recently retired from puttin' out flames. Generally grumpy. But - he'd run a mile for ya at the drop of a dime.

B2B - likely needs the most explaining. See.... I could him him Geek. But, that name is already given to my ultra pal.... well.... my ultra pal Geek. I could call him uber-geek. That is pretty fitting. But, no. Uber-geek is called B2B. Here's why.

Nice guy. Like him. Alot. Works at RIM. Worked at RIM since RIM was a pipe dream. (Ya know RIM, right? The Blackberry place? Ya - that one.)

When B2B has a conversation with you - it's just like having a Blackberry conversation. Ya know when you're chattin' via Blackberry.... you type out a sentence or two. Then.... there.... is..... a.... pause.... while.... the.... other..... person..... types...... out..... a..... reply...... then...... sends...... it..... back. You get to then say your piece. Hit send. Then..... you....... have....... to....... pause...... again.

Well - talkin to B2B is just like that. He says something. Then there's a pause. You're never quite sure if he is done talking or not. So, you say something back. Then there's another pause while he puts together the next sentence.

It's like having a living Blackberry chat. Blackberry to Blackberry. Therefore - you got it.... B2B.

Anyway - there it is. A little playtime. A little workin' time. And, now... Sunday night.... sittin outside with the Wife. Hurricane is over. Had a little dinner. Relaxin' time.

Oh ya kids. This is it.

A Return to the Old Ways

2010-05-25T09:28:00.002-04:00

ring. *ring. Bzzzzz-ding-ding-ding-bzzzzzz-screech......

Howdy boys & girls - tiz yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya?

The interweb - it's great. I get to peek around at all kindsa stuff. And, don't know 'bout you all - but 'round these parts - they interweb people recently introduced this whole cable thing. Makes all them web pages just pop up lightening quick. It's freakin' awesome!

The Wife and me - we do enjoy the TV. The Wife - totally down with the show LOST. Scrub - ahhhhh - honestly - drove me crazy. Sure, I watched. Mostly 'cause the Wife was watchin. And I do love hangin out with the Wife. So - I'd take in the weekly dose of insanity.

Here, up in the Great White (and pretty much the rest of the world, as far as I know) - that show... LOST... just finished it's 6-year run. Wrapped up. Finished. Ka-put. Done. Did ya see it? Oh sure - the deep and thoughtful sides of me and the Wife got it. Life. Death. The common, human experiences that transcend religion, sex, creed. Blah Blah Blah. But... seriously. Didn't ya'll just have to grab for the prozac and a rye and coke afterwards?

So - that was last week.

Then, yesterday...

24. Jack Bauer. CTU. Heard of it? Ya know - the show that kills off anyone that you just start to think is gonna make it? Ya. That one.

Well - our dear pal Hurricane (ya'll remember Hurricane, right? Named not because of the aggressive passing of wind but because of the path of destruction that follows her around? Ya. Her.) Anyway - our dear pal Hurricane, as ya'll might recall - frequented the Scrub Shack here on regular Monday nights to take in 47 minutes of Jack and the mayhem that went along with it. (Honestly - sure she likes the show 'cause she'd like to have a snog with Mr. Bauer - but, really, I think it's more 'cause it's nice to see someone's life only slightly more chaotic than her own.)

This activity - Hurricane comin' over... The Wife and me pretending we're not at home... Hurricane barging in anyway... this has been going on for some years now. Quite some years now.

Last night - 24 wrapped up. Done. Finito. That's it.

Sure - we're celebrating the off-chance that Hurricane won't come over anymore. But this also means that there ain't much point anymore to havin' cable.

Scrub can cancel cable. Woooo Hoooo!

No more bills from the rather grumpy postal employee.

No more phone calls from the evil empire trying to sell me more.

No more commercials touting the benefits of having a 'happy period'.

But - this also means, Scrub - in order to remain connected to the interweb thing - would have to go on dial up. Hmmmm.... That's ok. I kinda like that sound when you connect. Makes me feel like something is happening. It sounds all computery. I like it.

Hmmmmm..... wait. What about "V"? Oh - and then there's Big Brother. Glorious evidence that the human race truly are idiots. HOUSE. FOOD network. National Geographic specials that show us how bugs do the nasty. And, the ever present hope that KNIGHT RIDER would make a return. Hmmmmmmm. Perhaps losing cable might be a bit... ummm... premature.

Gee - Scrub was comin' on to say his goodbye's to ya'll since he was goin' to be dropping off the interweb (well, the high speed version anyway). But, perhaps..... unlike Jack - both Bauer from 24 and the Sheppard from LOST - this ain't the end.

If Saturday was a dinner - here is the recipe.

2010-05-01T07:44:00.003-04:00

And so it begins.

Morning boys & girls - tiz yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How ya'll doin this A.M.??

It's another Saturday in the big city. WOOHOO! Scrub loves Saturdays. In fact, I'd have to say Saturday's are way up there in the list along with Sandwiches, Star Trek and Whiskey. A lot to live up to... I know.

So ya... Saturday in the big city. It's a full one today kids.

First - the Wife - buggerin' off for a day of Scrappin with the gal pals. Gotta load up the go-kart and drop her and her small warehouse of supplies off this morn. (Well... that's not really 'first'. The real 'first of the day' will be draggin' the Kid and his arse outa bed. A chore in itself.)

Then, the Kid has a meet N greet with his soccer pals this morn. The soccer season fires up next week with practice number 1. So, today, the little testosterones are all gettin' together to get their new shirts and shorts etc. Get a chance to meet each other. That sorta stuff.

Front yard -needin' a trim. That'll be on the agenda today.

Hittin' the local trading post to source out some local grub to cook up for the Kid and me.

The interior of the Scrub shack is needin' a little TLC. Gotta get 'round to that.

And, of course, while all that is happening - Scrub'll have the local police scanner tuned in and turned up to see what all the action is.

Yes, m'lovelies... Saturdays are a great thing.

Might even get a little digiscrappin' in today. Wanna see a pic of the neice?

It's A Wonderful Day in the Neighbourhood

2010-04-24T09:37:00.002-04:00

... a wonderful day in the neighbourhood. Won't you be my... won't you be my.... neighbour.

Howdy boys & girls - tiz yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

First - to our red white and blue neighbours to the south - the spelling of neighbours. I know. Different. But - hey - that's how we roll here in the Great White. We also spell the word colour... well... c.o.l.o.u.r. See... in the dead of winter - well, most of the time really... when we've got nothin' else to do - we just throw random letters into words for fun. Honestly - it's mostly to see who's not giddy on wobbly pops. If they catch the extra vowel - we know their stone sober and alright to take the dogs out for a run with the sled. Welcome to Canada, eh.

So kids - today is a great day! Why? Well, let me fill ya in.

See - over the past few weeks, the Wife and me and our deal pal Hurricane (you remember Hurricane, right? Bankrupts airlines. Tackles tricky and congested driving scenes by rolling down the window and yelling "MY TURN". Considers triple strength instant coffee a food group. Ya - her.) Anyway... me, the Wife and Hurricane usually sit ourselves down on a Monday night to catch all the action on a little program called 24. Jack Bauer. "Trust me". Body counts rising by the minute. The moment you get to know a character, they blow up. Ya - you got it.

But... the past few weeks... me, the Wife and Hurricane have not been able to sit down to enjoy our weekly run of Bauer and 24. Quite a few weeks, as a matter of fact. 6 weeks to be exact.

BUT!!!!!.... Fear not, my friends! Here, in the Great White, we have this technology that allows us to take programs on the moving picture machine and - brace yourselves - RECORD IT FOR FUTURE VIEWING!!!! Hallelujah!!!!! (C'mon... I'm a dude and have to have my toys, right?)

So - today is the day kids.

Went and fetched some meat from the local trading post. Will be firing up the 'ol fire pit. Hurricane is coming over. (reminds me... gotta pay insurance next week.) Got the good 'ol Crown Royal ready to pour. Yes, today is the day. It's a 24 marathon!

Gawddamm - life is grand.

Sharing Happiness ! !

2010-04-20T22:20:00.003-04:00

Hey kids - it's yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Alrighty - lets talk about Sharing Happiness, shall we? No, I'm not talking about wrapping big, brawny and fantastically ripped Scrubbie arms around you... no. no.

Nor am I suggesting that Scrub and the wife have hit the jackpot in the local Great White lottery and we're gonna start spreading the wealth like peanut butter on morning whole wheat toast. While delicious... this is not what I'm going at here.

No kids... in this case, Scrub is commenting on the fact that one of his groovy email addy's he uses for his noble volunteer work was grabbed by someone else and used to send out some stupid email with the subject "Sharing Happiness ! !" and gave Scrubs colleagues and network (that includes local police big shots, movers and shakers of some half million people and some of the fancy-schmancy government big shots that rule the roost 'round these parts) some bizarre song and dance about spreading the love and inheriting money and crap like that.

And - to top it all off... Scrub's gonna put on his Sunday best in a week to host and emcee the mega event of the year where all of these pillars of the community will be hob-knobbin' with each other.

Oh ya - I look like a friggin' ass right now. Frack.

The Wife

2010-04-04T08:14:00.002-04:00

Howdy Kidlings - it's yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya?

It's April 4th. Special day.

See, today is The Wife's Birthday!

It was !! years ago that The Wife came into this world. Scrub, for one, is glad is around. I'd have been talkin to myself these past 20 some years if she wasn't here.

Ain't she gorgeous?

So, here... on the interweb... I just wanna tell the world... how much I love this woman.

And, to wish her a very happy birthday.

I love ya darlin'.

And speakin' of Hurricane...

2010-04-03T21:17:00.004-04:00

Speakin of Hurricane... here's an update: After grounding and bankrupting an entire airline just by booking a seat and travellin' to some sun-shiney island somewheres last week, our dear pal Hurricane has managed to fanagle herself and her two offspring a ride home. US Airways. Yes - if you have a ticket, you might wanna check your cancellation insurance. Anyways... the ol gal is jettin' home tomorrow.

But... on that note of our deal pal Hurricane and her bein' the "eye of the storm" and all....

ya'll might recall an entry some time back called Vroom-Vroom. Go ahead - take a peek if ya like. This interweb thingy is really the bees knees, aint it?

Ok, back? Kewl. Anyway - in that entry, ya'll read about good 'ol Hurricane securing herself a new set'a wheels for toddlin' around town with.

Just realized....

The new set'a wheels.....

A horseless buggy made by Saturn.

Saturn.

And....

Yes.....

Work with me here kids....

They aint in business no more.

Are ya seein' the pattern?

Thought I was exaggerating. Didn't ya?

WARNING! WARNING!

2010-03-31T15:51:00.004-04:00

Howdy kids! It's yer old pal Scrubbie here! How the frack are ya?

I know, eh.... like... seriously. I haven't had nuthin' to say.

Today.... I do.

Alrighty - got yer coffee in hand? Right then. Here we go.

So - ya'll recall the wife and me have a dear friend named Hurricane, right? Remember her? Dynamite under the driveway. Unknowingly gives theives who just cleared out a neighbours house clear directions back to the highway. Walks into someone's house thinking it was her pals... announces she's gotta pee.... only to find out all the people in the house are actually there for a wake for their dear pappy who just passed from this earth. Yep - her.

So - our dear pal Hurricane is a tireless worker. She slugs it out pretty hard every day. Trading skins and furs to keep herself in cookies and bling. But, in a moment of weakness, decided she needed a vacation. Take a little trip to where there ain't snow fer a change. And, takes her offspring with her too. Scrub - I takes them to the local airplane take-off facility and see them off.

Scrub gets back home to the igloo and with every conversation he has with pals - they all say "what's that? Hurricane? On a plane? On vacation? Geez - wonder what disaster's gonna happen now?!" Then - we all giggle.

C'mon - what are the chances, eh?

THIS IS HURRICANE! THIS IS HURRICANE, PEOPLE! The chances are 100%

While our dear pal Hurricane is basking in the sunshine in warmer locales with her two brats.... Scrub hears on the portable audio box that "Skyservice today has announced it has ceased operations and is now in receivership."

Yep - Skyservice. That's Hurricane's airline. Well - let me qualify that.... it WAS Hurricane's airline.

In one fleeting moment in time, in this... the year of our Lord, two-thousand ten... our dear pal Hurricane has managed to bankrupt and ground an entire airline.

So - on behalf of our dear pal Hurricane - I'd like to apologize to the 800+ employees of Skyservice Airlines as well as to the thousands of passengers who were either scheduled to fly to vacation destinations around the world or who are there already and are now swapping seashells and sand sculptures for space in the cargo compartments of flights to get back home.

I must point out - just as with the dynamite under the driveway... just as with the house being struck by lightening (twice)... just as with the plane that crash landed in the front yard of her igloo... somehow... SOMEHOW... "it's not 'my' fault".

No, No Hurricane. It's not your fault. But, somehow... SOMEHOW... you are the eye of the storm.

As a public service, I shall, from this day forth, post Hurricanes travel plans, whereabouts and schedules right here on this blog.

Don't say I didn't warn ya kids.

I will stop writing now and continue my last few days of guaranteed peace and serenity whilst Hurricane is outa the country. I suggest all those of you north of the border... do the same.

Regrets

2010-01-20T06:39:00.003-05:00

Huh? 2010? Whaaaaat?!?!?!

Howdy kids - tiz your old pal Scrubbie here. Happy New Year.

Havent blogged in a while. I know. I really havent had much to say. Oh sure - I could spin a yarn about the nasty dogsled accident that left me in a coma. And how through it all, I could hear the Wife talkin to me while I lay in sterile hospital room - sayin things like "where the hell did you put the scissors?" Then, just a few days ago - popped my eyes open thinking it had only been a couple of hours while to my shock and horror - finding out the year had turned, the kid got married, the lunatic dog had pups (even though she had her u-hoo taped shut) and I had grown a third eye.

Sure - that'd be fun. Interesting, even. Funny, in a dark and tragic sorta way.

But it aint true. And ya'll already know that if it goes up on the blog - there's gotta be truth to it.

No... Scrub just hasn't had much to say.

Today, however... I do.

Ahem.... (clearing throat)

Trek.

Star Trek.

Love Trek.

All kindsa Trek. New and Old.

Know lots about it.

Lots.

But....

This, my friends, is simply wrong.

I don't know who these people are.

Don't really need to.

All I know is... they need help.

And, one day, they'll regret this photo.

And that boys and girls - is all I gotta say.

It Ends Up Balanced

2009-12-16T14:58:00.002-05:00

Give a little. Take a little. Win some. Lose some. Sometimes you get it. Sometimes it gets you.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here on a wintery, snowy and really frackin' cold afternoon. How are ya?

Balance. Everything seems to end up balanced.

Here - take this for example:

Scrub was giddy. Scrub was jumpin' with excitement. Scrub's tastebuds were tickled pink. Let me explain.

Just t'other day, Scrub dragged out the flour and sugar, eggs and vanilla and a bowl or two. A measure of this. A dash of that. Scrub stoked up the fire and before ya knew it... there, in front of me - biscotti. Ya know - those crunchy, delish cookie thingies that just are swell with a cuppa coffee. Timmies coffee. (whoops - there's that Timmies reference again. HI Kristine!)

Anyway - biscotti. Glorious to behold. Even more-so to taste. Cranberry Pistachio biscotti to be exact. Flavoured with vanilla and almond extract. With just a hint of the olive oil used in the preparation. Oh kids... magnificent!

Then, Scrub went ahead with a second batch. Just cause I had more dried cranberries and nuts left over. This time however - DRIZZLED IN WHITE CHOCOLATE they were! The ONLY thing better than this culinary treat is cuddles with the wife or dreams involving pudding.

Heaven. Simply heaven.

So - inspired, Scrub, last night, drugged out more flour and sugar and other baking goodies. The igloo was positively filled with the smells of Christmas! Chocolate-Orange Biscotti! Banana-Walnut mini loaves! Coconut Macaroons! Lord... Take me now! My mouth was positively dripping with anticipation!

The Biscotti - dutch cocoa and the zest of the quintessential Christmas treat 'round here... Clementines. Oh... they were all chocolately-dark with that signature crackly crust on the top of the cookies!

The smell of the banana loaves were enough to attract the attention of the Kid's punk pals from miles around. They all came wanderin' over through the cold night air just to have a sniff and ask "Scrubbie - what is that wonderful smell?"

And the macaroons. Let me ask you - is there anything more perfect... is there anything that speaks to the soul more than little golden mounds of sugary goodness that just nukes your tastebuds with the taste of coconut than a macaroon? 48 of the little buggers came outa the hot box last night!

Now - here is where the whole Yin-Yang of it all comes in.

The Cranberry-Nut Biscotti - a gift from the gods. The chocolate-orange Biscotti - bitter horrid little shards that could be perfectly good tent-peg substitutes. My delectable banana-walnut mini loaves - gawddamnd bricks. And the macaroons - i don't even know how to describe the disaster.

So, you see... over the course of 24 hours, Scrubbie went from bein' all high and mighty over his screamin' success in the kitchen of the igloo, to being completely and utterly put back in my place by it.

Ah well.

It's off to the trading post where I'll simply swap a few skins and furs for a collection of sweeties that I will simply pass off as my own. Huh? Oh, ya, right... like you've never done that before.

A Rare Moment of Niceness.

2009-12-11T22:31:00.003-05:00

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

I'm stuffed. Full. Well sated.

Tonight, the Wife and me went for dinner. Out for dinner. At a restaurant! Seriously.

Went to this place called Oliver and Bonacelli. It was dee-lightful! Dee Lish! Nice staff. Great service. All around - it was a grand occasion.

So many times, at restaurants, food tends to be all bland and nasty. Ya know - gotta appeal to the masses. So, flavours are just not there that POP and shout.

But, not at this place.

Again, I say, it was delicious.

BUT....

Tonight wasn't about the food.

Tonight wasn't about the exceptionally kewl decor.

Tonight wasn't about the Aussie accented waiter.

Nope.

We could'a been eatin' cat food outa tin cans in the back of an alley in the winter cold and it would have been just as fantastic.

It's the company we had.

See - tonight, me and the Wife went out to celebrate, for just a moment, with our good pals - the Joodster and her ear suckling hubby.

Now, I'm not one to go blathering on - gettin' all gushy 'round the gills. Well, not often anyway. But, I don't mind tellin' ya - the Joodster and her ear suckling hubby - there just damnd decent people. Both have hearts the size of a house. Both have love in their voices. And, the Wife and me - are, frankly, privileged to have them in our lives.

Everyone should have folks like them around.

Enough said.

Run baby, Run!

2009-12-09T09:44:00.004-05:00

Whallop!

Morning boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Lord love a duck - we got snow. Yep - the fluffy white came down last night and this morning, it really is beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Now... all you visiting from afar - I know you're out there... Scrub's gotta remind you of something. That is... that we Canucks talk about only a few things. Tim Hortons coffee. Hockey. And, the weather. Dull? No, No. Not really. Think about it more as an opportunity to visit us here in the Great White without the worry about n

ot fitting in. Just come on by. Throw a smile on your face and talk about coffee. You'll find nothin' but Canuck pals if you do.

In fact, here's a little public service for ya'll. How to say coffee in many languages:

Arabic Countries- Qahwa / Kahwa

Armenian- Sourj

China- (Mandarin)- Kafei

Czechlovakia- Kava

Denmark -Kaffe

Egypt- Masbout

Ethopia...(where it may have started) -Buna

Finland- Kahvi

France -Cafe

Germany -Kaffee

Greek- Kafes

Hawaii-Kope

Holland- Koffie

Hungary- Kave

Indonesia/Malaysia -Kopi

Iran- Gehve

Iraq- Qahwa

Israel- Kave

Italy -Coffea

Japan-Koohii

Kenya -Kalawa

Laos- Kafe

Lebanon- Qahwa

Norway- Kaffee

Philippines -Kape

Poland- Kawa

Spain- Kafe

Thailand -Gafae

Back to the Weather. Yes - it's one of our topics. As Scrubbie strolls through the village or visits the local trading post... I often hear people complaining about the weather. Too hot. Too cold. Too much. Not enough. Whatever.

But - there is one little fart here at the igloo that is quite ok with it all.

An award? Me?

2009-12-08T07:50:00.005-05:00

You like me! You really like me!

Hey kidlings - it's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Okay - so it's happened before, but I kinda ignored it before. The truth is I just didn't really know what the hell to do with it.

It's this whole blog award thingy.

See, it's not that I was ungrateful or nothin. No, not at all. It's just that it confuses me. Remember - Scrubbie ain't all that bright. Few sticks short of a branch or whatever that saying is.

Accept the award, post it, nominate other blogs - it's all too much for me. The stress of even getting the letter "A" posted on my own blog - enough to drive a fella to drink.

But - this time... a little different.

One of them thar people that visit now and then is my good pal Kristine. She's a Canuck as well. If ever there is a reference to a Timmies coffee here on my blog - good 'ol Kristine is right there. Typical for a Canuck though - if there is a Timmies coffee anywhere - we'll find it.

Then there's that sense of humour of my good pal Kristine - there are times when I'm readin' over her blog or comments from her on my blog that make me dribble in my drawers just a little bit.

Wanna visit? Just click here to be taken away to a magical land.

So, when my good pal Kristine told me about this little award thingy - I just couldn't resist. Thanks darlin'!

Ok, Ok... so here's the deal. I get to post this freaky lookin' lady in an apron on my blog (who looks like that? C'mon!) and I am to answer a few questions (very personal questions, I might add) and then I have to tell ya'll about another blog or two that I think are pretty darn'd kewl.

So - the questions are below. You'll get there eventually. Just keep readin' here.

Alrighty - one blog that is awful fun to peruse is by Kristi. Why? Well - it's family life and if there is one thing that always elicits a grin from this ol boy - it's tales of family life. Plain, simple, uncensored.

Another blog that I particularly enjoy is the Wife's gal-pal, the Joodster. While most of ya don't know the Joodster, her ear-suckling hubby and her two punks personally, the Jood's blog perfectly gives a peek into who this ultimate home-nester is.

So - there ya go kids. Places to visit. Things to read. What more do ya want? Blood?

On to the questions. Have a nice day.

Your cell phone? No - they don't let us have phones in our cells. But, there's a payphone just down the hall. A rather large and burley fella who likes to be called Angela guards it.
Your hair? receding like the snows of mt. Kilimanjaro
Your mother? Once scored higher than the Wife playing one of those "how naughty are you" at one of them lingerie hen-parties. That incident cost me close to 20,000 dollars in psych appointments.
Your father? Obviously pleased about Scrubbie Mamma's "how naughty are you" test results
Favorite food? Oh Gosh - the list, m'darlin's..., is sooooo long. There is just no way to narrow this one down. Lets go with.. Gummi Bears.
Your dream last night? involved pudding.
Your favorite drink? no hesitation here - nectar of the gods, sweet honey of life, golden delishishnuss - it's rye. Wonderful, thank the Lord above, make Scrubbie happy, Rye.
Your dream/goal? My dream goal? All the Bud Light girls winning a shootout against the Ottawa Senators. Hmmm? Whaddya mean "dream goal" then?
What room are you in? In the Kitchen. With a knife. Call me Professor Plum.
Your hobby? Finding new and fun ways to keep those nostril hairs at bay. Blech.
Your fear? Those nostril hairs getting out of control - growing wildly and culminating in taking on a life of their own, wrapping themselves around my head and neck - slowly choking the very breath of life out of me while I sleep. *shudder
Where do you want to be in 6 years? I dunno. Honestly - i'm pretty content being an average schmuck in the Great White North here. But, if you really push me for an answer, I'd have to say in 6 years I'd like to be a neurosurgeon practicing my craft on a tropical island with lots of those naked-booby people roaming around. You asked.
Where were you last night? Right here. With the Wife. And the Kid. And the lunatic dog. Watching Christmas movies on the tube. With popcorn. And tea. It was perfection.
Something you aren’t? A fisherman. Haven't we established that clearly by now?
Muffins? We're talking about baked goods, right?? There's a whole list of naughty euphemisms for muffins which I assume is not the intention of the question. Well - in either case.... Yes please.
Wish list item? Muffins
Where did you grow up? Pretty much everywhere. Arms, legs, torso, wibbly-wobblies - all pretty much proportioned. Geez - that's a weird question.
Last thing you did? Thought about what the last thing I did was. This is a loaded question and can never be answered. See, if I say the last thing I did was type the letter R, whoops - see - the last thing I did there was type a comma. Now a period! It just never ends!
What are you wearing? The official uniform of all residents in the Great White. Jeans and a really big sweatshirt to make sure I keep warm.
Your TV? Thankfully, not an issue. I have been vaccinated. Oh - Tee Vee - not TB.
Your pets? wildly odd.
Friends? I don't really have any. I am generally not well liked. And, frankly, I generally don't like people. I like things simple.
Your mood? Frantic. Yes - even medicated... still frantic.
Missing someone? Yes. But, hopefully now that I have a new laser-sight... I'll finally get the little bastard.
Vehicle? Dog Sled.
Something you’re not wearing? A wig.
Your favorite store? A. I'm a guy. B. I'm Canadian. The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind and should be painfully obvious. CANADIAN TIRE. WooooooHooooooo!
Your favorite color? Beige. lovely, neutral, clean - beige.
When was the last time you laughed? I never laugh. Unless the dog farts. That is pretty darn'd funny.
Last time you cried? Tears of joy when Star Trek came out on DVD.
Your best friend? The Wife. She da bomb.
One place that you go to over and over? Canadian Tire. Duh.
Facebook? Ya. What about it? Oh - I invited every person on facebook that has the same name as me to be my friend. They're all accepting those friend requests. It's hysterical. It's also confusing 'cause I keep seeing that I am doing all these weird things in status updates. Then, I have to pause and think - "No, wait... it's not ME that is climbing mount everest tomorrow. It must the the other guy."
Favorite Place to Eat? It's a toss up between right here at the igloo, surrounded by the Wife, the Kid and family and friends - who are all enjoying a full out meal that I have envisioned and created. We dine via candlelight (especially when the electric goes out), imbibe with regional wine, have a few laughs and drink in the friendship and love that fills the room. It's that or ...an Oktoberfest sausage on a bun with sauerkraut and mustard from the street-meat vendor outside Canadian Tire. I can't decide which.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

2009-12-07T15:39:00.006-05:00

'Ello m'darlin's - it's yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya'll doin'?

Oh - it's been a nut-house around the igloo these days. The kid - sick as a dog - hacking up a lung. The Wife - frantic with her higher learnin' stuff. Lunatic dog - well - c'mon... it's the lunatic dog. How hard can it be?

So - yes, the igloo is bein' all tarted up to celebrate Christmas. We do that here. The bedlam shall begin soon. Scrub's fam. The Wife's fam. Hurricane and her punks. Yes - it's all comin'. Oh sure - I love it. We all do. Not complainin'. But, ya know how it is... crazy days.

Next year, we're changing things up a bit 'round here though. Next year and every year thereafter... Scrub and the fam are hangin out here at the igloo on Christmas day. Front door is gonna get unlocked at 2pm and anyone and everyone is welcome to stop in, drop by, hang out and visit for as long or as short as they like. No formal dinners. Nothin' crazy. Just casual, good times. The formal stuff - all gonna happen the day before and the day after.

But, back to this year.

Now... ya'll might recall a post or two ago, Scrub was mentioning about headin' out to the local trading post to swap skins and furs for some twinkle lights to adorn the abode.

And, ya'll might recall in that post, Scrub mentioned that unless somethin was on sale - ya know... a bargain... that Scrub was gonna - ummm - kinda - ummm - NOT buy stuff this year.

Wellllll - there wasn't anything on sale. No bargains to be found.

Nope - not nothin'.

However - Ladies and Gents - lemme introduce you to The Wife.

This darlin' - apart from being simply smokin' hot and just the kewlest chick on the face of the earth... is also the Grand Mamma of artsy-fartsy creative!

So - this past weekend, the Wife and me went a strollin' outside the comfie-coziness of our domicile to the wooded tundra and did a little foraging.

Came back. Put on a pot of hot coffee. And the 'lil darlin' went to work. Snip snip. Cut cut. Arrange arrange. And... Voila!

I mean... LOOK AT THAT!

Ain't that purty!

Here's the second one.

All stuff found right in our yard!

Lord lov'er - aint she great?

So - there ya go kids.

Even faced with the cheapness that is Scrubbie - the Wife still manages to pull a rabbit outa the hat and before you know it - whoosh, bang....

Regional Decorating.

I love my wife.

Click here please.

2009-12-01T20:07:00.003-05:00

A video game survey? Huh?

Evening boys & girls - tiz I - yer old pal Scrub here! Howdy!

OK - so Scrub's way overdue to post. I know. I will.

But, first - here's the scoop. The Kid... he's doing this project, see. For his learnin' institution. A Science Fair project. Nope - it's not a volcano. Not my kid. He's all techno-junkie.

The Kid is doin this project about male vs female. Oh. Ummmm.... wonder where he gets these ideas from?

And, his project is about a topic near and dear to his widdle heart. Video Games.

So - part of his project is some research. And, bein' all techno-junkie and all, he's doing his research in the form of an online poll. Seriously.

Here's the deal... anyone can do this survey. BUT - if you got Scrublings kickin' around your place - have them do the survey. Ideally, the Kid is targeting ages 10-30ish. And, for heaven's sake - pass out these links to absolutely everyone you know. He's gonna run for 2 weeks collecting results, then he's gonna graph himself to death. I'll keep ya posted.

Alrighty - if you are a SCRUB - go to: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/PMP8KD8

If you are a SCRUBETTE - go to: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/PXQHGBZ

Got it? Scrub. Scrubette. Different links. Got it? Kewl.

Ok kids - go git 'em.

Kid needs a good mark. He's gotta get into higher learnin'. Get good grades. Get a good job. Make lotsa money. Take care of his old man.

Ya - it's all about retirement planning on this end.

Quchjaj qoSlIj!

2009-11-25T11:02:00.004-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Scrubs & Scrubettes, it's my buddy, The Geek's birthday today!

Hey kids - yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya'll doin?

See him? There he is. My buddy - Geek.

So - here's what we're gonna do. Scrub's gonna list a few items here. The list - well, it's a list that will do two things.

First - the list is going to give you all, m'darlin Scrublings, a bit of insight into why Scrub calls him The Geek.

Second, and here's the fun part of us, every time you see one of the items on the list, you will know that Geek is squealing like a little girl on Christmas morning - giggling with delight. Ready?

1. Quchjaj qoSllj! (Happy Birthday, in Klingon)

2. Star Trek - take your pick

3. BattleStar Galactica

4. 10001 001010 (Happy Birthday, in Binary Code)

5. V - the series

6. "Chevron 1 - locked."

7. Linux

8. 20 Million Candle Power flashlight fights in the fog

9. GPS Trackers on Geek's and Scrubbie's phones - we know where each other is at all times. *Squeal!

10. Floorplans done up before furniture gets moved

11. The Q Continuum

12. Beta verison

13. Finding a website IP address without Web/Command prompt access = Score!

14. 967-1111

15. Big Bang Theory

Lets all just pause for a moment so Geek can collect his thoughts - have a cold shower - calm down.

Alrighty.

So, yes kids - it's Geek's birthday today. I, for one, am happy to call him a pal.

Prepare yourself - Some scenes may not be suitable for younger children.

2009-11-22T19:44:00.004-05:00

Dearest Readers,

There are many things in this world that, frankly, are simply wrong.

Yes kids, Scrubbie here at the dinglee-doo this evening.

First, however - no lights purchased today.

Went to the trading post. Alone, I might add. But, it was a zoo. It was a nightmarish, busy as heck, the world-is-coming-to-an-end-tomorrow-so-I-better-buy-the-stuff-today zoo. Oh - nothin that was a smokin' hot bargain either. So, empty handed I returned to the igloo.

Unless somethin changes, it'll be candles this year.

So - things that are wrong.

1. Wars that are fueled by simple disagreements that could be solved by easy compromise or human understanding. Scrub's not one of them smartie-pants that has all the answers. Nope. I'm sure the river runs deeper that what I think. But, seriously - one side wears blue and the other side wants to wear blue too. So they think the solution is strapping bombs to people's bodies and sending them to community gathering spots. Or, they outfit 12 year olds with automatic weapons and tell 'em to go git 'em. It's wrong. Sorry if you're one of them that wants to wear blue, or think that someone else's property line goes through your yard, or that your God is better than the next guy's God. But, seriously - there has to be a better way. What works for Scrubbie is me and the next guy sittin' down over a beer and havin' a chat. It works. Honestly.

2. Parents and Children. This is a rather broad umbrella when it comes to being "wrong". Parents that are abusive to children. Adult children who are abusive to their aging parents. Issues of neglect. Parents who are too selfish to put their children ahead of themselves. Heck - any situation where an adult is taking advantage of a child or vice versa. It's all wrong.

3. Fish

4. Those that don't like Star Trek - incredibly wrong.

5. But, the ultimate in wrong... the pinnacle of wrong... the absolutely, definitively, and most utterly of wrong... I shudder at the very sight of it; cringe when I click the mouse to see it; cry at the thought of it... is...

I mean... seriously!?!

Shhhhh. Please read quietly.

2009-11-22T12:53:00.003-05:00

Afternoon kids - tiz I - yer ol pal Scrub.

Yes, it's a Sunday afternoon here in the Great White.

Today, my friends, Scrub must forage. No, not for moose and other varmints for eatin'. No. Foraging today is all about them little lights that Scrub has to put up next week to adorn the igloo for the Christmas holiday season.

Sadly - the last set of lights the ol boy had have died. It was a slow, painful, dim death - but there ya have it. Gone.

So - it's off to the local trading post to see what kinda deals Scrub can score.

And, as ya'll know, Scrub don't much like payin full price for things. It's gotta be on sale and it's gotta be a deal. If it ain't - then Scrub don't buy. Simple as that.

This, of course, has the Wife slightly alarmed. The Wife knows that what will come home could be potentially anything - depending on what's on sale and what is a deal.

She wants to come with me.

That is dangerous. See... Scrub's a pushover when it comes to his darlin' lovie-boo. If she pours on the eyes and uses that voice of hers in just the right way... Scrub can be convinced to buy damn'd near anything. It's not that I dont want her to come. Heavens no. It's just that when Scrub's alone - it's much easier to scope out the good sales. Shop comparatively. Make sound deal-gettin' decisions. Ya know?

There is, of course, a solution to this dilemma. This dilemma of sharing in the joy of selecting pretty twinkly lights that are one of the hallmarks of the Christmas season for us here at the Scrub Shack. The dilemma marrying our desire to have these pretty things shining their happy goodness on glistening new fallen snow - casting auras of green and blue and red across the tundra and of doing all of this while being attentive to pricing and cautious with pennies.

Yes, there is a solution to this dilemma.

Scrub's gonna sneak out and not tell anyone he's going.

The Same Old Song.

2009-11-15T11:10:00.005-05:00

5:35 am. Every morning.

Howdy boys and girls - Tiz I... yer old pal Scrub here. Sunday morning.

So - here in Scrub's part of the Great White - we've been treated to some fancy dancy weather. In fact, was so nice yesterday that Scrub rustled up the Kid and we hit the great outdoors. No, No... not for huntin. Not for fishin. (GAWD... not for fishin). No - instead it was a great day to batten down the hatches 'fore the snow starts flyin all permanent like. I tell ya kids - couldn't have been nicer out there.

The Wife had her delicate digits all over Scrub's mouse last night. WOOOOOHOOOOOO! hehe

Seriously though - the Wife commandeered the Toshiba last night and whippped together another digipage. See - there it is. Nice, eh?

That was a pic from when the Kid turned Teen. Just a few weeks ago.

Hey - it was so nice out yesterday, Scrub even

fired up the BBQ and me and the fam had weenies for lunch! Love it - mid November and fire in the pit.

So - 5:35 am. Let me tell you 'bout this nonsense.

The ol internal clock has been going off around 5:30 every day. Seriously. 5:30. And, dont know 'bout you all - but when Scrub's internal clock goes off - pretty much gotta answer the call.

Every morning. Driving me crazy. Get up. Quietly creep around the igloo careful not to wake the Wife and the Kid. Hell - lunatic dog even looks at me with disdain. Kinda the "What the bark are you doin?

Have tried a couple of strategies to deal with it.

Done the warm milk thing. Like drinkin straight from the teat that is. Blech.

Couple of cocktails before bedtime. Nothin. Fun, but didn't help the early morning thing.

BUT - I figured a new strategy. Sort of a negative reinforcement thing. Here's the plan:

*Ding - internal clock goes off. Scrub wakes up. Instead of creeping around the igloo - gonna wake the Wife. Lights on. Blankets off. WAKE UP!

Now - make no mistake. The Wife - she aint a morning gal at the best of times. Nope. Not one little bit. Growly. Grumpy. Confused. Nope, not a morning gal.

If Scrub wakes the Wife at 5:30 - without a diamond ring or Scrappy outing planned - she is gonna be a bear. Big time. She'll be miffed. And, rightly so - will let Scrub know - in no uncertain terms - exactly what she thinks about her hubby wakin her up without a diamond ring to ease the pain or scrappy outing planned. NO UNCERTAIN TERMS.

This, my friends, is not something that I would look forward to. In fact, avoiding such an encounter is the whole reason that I creep around the igloo in an attempt not to awaken the crowd.

BUT - if my brain knows that danger is at the door by wakin up the bear - then perhaps it will keep Scrubbie asleep until a more reasonable hour!

Oh sure - I don't WANT to have to resort to such measures. But, guy's gotta sleep. Right?

I shared this clever plan with the Wife.

The Wife - ummm...less than enthusiastic about the plan.

The plan will not be going into effect.

November 11th.

2009-11-11T06:58:00.000-05:00

At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month...

we remember.

Ugh. Fish.

2009-11-10T21:20:00.004-05:00

Nasty little buggers.

Hiya boys & girls - it's your old pal Scrubbie.

Gotch'er clickin' finger ready? Ok - CLICK HERE. When you do - you'll be taken back to a posting from - oh, I dunno - a while back anyway. There... you'll learn that Scrubbie - he don't like fish. Go ahead - click away. Just be sure to hit the BACK button or whatever the hell it is up there. I'll wait for ya.

Back? Ok. Read on.

I wont go on and on about the devil spawn. Not again. Suffice to say - eeeeewwwwwww. No. Wait... I should use capital letters. EEEEEEEWWWWWWW. Oh - and an exclamation mark. EEEEEWWWWWWW! More? EEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Better? Good. (always here to oblige ya'll)

You get the idea. Scrub... he don't like fish.

Today, Scrub had a lunch date. OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!

Oh, good heavens - it was a lunch date with a business colleague. All chit chat about marketing and job descriptions and interviews. Nothin' like lunch dates with the Wife when we get googly-eyed at each other over salad and sandwiches. They're much more fun.

Anyway - lunch date. Business colleague.

And - we went to the Mandarin restaurant. Been? It's like this Chinese food buffet that stretches on for a block. Insane. Tasty. But insane. Where else can you chow down on Sweet N Sour chicken balls, onion rings, potato salad and pizza at the same time? Seriously. Where?

So, I get there and a very very polite Kimono wearin' young'en escorts me to a table.

Plunk. There I am. At the table.

Oh - sure... nice table. Clean. Cutlery nicely laid out. Tablecloth.

Very pleasant chap comes over to bring me a glass of H2O. I ask for a Diet Cola with a wedge of lemon. The usual.

Sounds all groovy, don't it?

Well - here is where the horror begins.

I am seated directly beside this big-ass tank of devil spawn. Ooooglie buggers too.

I mean this tank is a mid-wall height to ceiling tank that is clear on both sides and serves as a gal-dang wall 'tween Scrub's eatin' room and the next eatin' room. A WALL! OF DEVIL SPAWN! A WHOLE WALL!

See what I mean? In the pic there? Ugh.

I calls the Wife on one of them newfangled cordless, wireless, magic phones.

"Wife!" I says.

"Hi Boo" she says.

"Wife!" I says. "I am sittin' here at the restaurant beside a gal-dang wall of Devil Spawn. EEEEEWWWWW."

"Well - why don't you move to another table?" she says.

Uh-Oh. Logic.

Logic has been introduced into an otherwise completely scattered, ADHD cluttered, Gemini dual-personality influenced male brain. What the frack?

Heart starts racing. A single bead of sweat glistens off my brow. Damnit. Logic.

"No" I says. "Can't do that" I says.

"Ok. Whatever." she says.

Curses.

See - I am man. There's no moving to another table just 'cause Devil Spawn is ogling me.

No - there'd have to be something pretty serious to alert the staff that I needed to move.

Structural damage to the building that I noticed, perhaps? Structural damage that could potentially cause death? Even that - borders on not being a good reason to move. No. I am stuck there. No getting around it.

Deep breath.

Oops - here comes the colleague. Can't do nothin' about it now.

I stand up. Extend my hand and take firm grip of his. We swap greetings. We sit.

I very carefully turn 17.5 degrees to the right so that Devil Spawn is not in my direct line of vision.

The colleague doesn't notice. Phew.

This, my friends, is how I must endure the next 120 minutes.

Ugh.

Advice from Scrubbie. I love to help.

2009-11-09T10:26:00.003-05:00

"How's the weather up there, eh?"

'Ello, 'ello kids. Scrub at the keyboard. How are ya?

Here's a travel tip for all you planning on a Canadian adventure. It's pretty easy to get along here in the Great White. For the most part, we're an easy goin' bunch. We're not hard to get along with. And, you don't have much to worry about in terms of mingling in and amongst us.

First - be sure to stop in for coffee at Tim Hortons. They are easy to find. Just go down any major street and within a couple of blocks - you'll see one. Stop in. That's where you'll find most of us. In there.

You need to know directions? Places to go? Things to do? Lodging for the night? Go ahead - ask us. Only too happy to share.

Feeling a little nervous about striking up a chat with a total stranger? No problem. Here, my friends, I will share with you perfectly good ice-breakers that will warm the heart of any true Canuck.

1. "Did you see the hockey game last night? What was the final score?" (Don't worry about which game specifically. The truth is that there is hockey going on 365 days a year 'round here. Regardless the town you're in... regardless the time of year... regardless who you speak to - there IS a hockey game to talk about.)

2. "I can't believe it's {insert day i.e. Monday, Wednesday, Friday etc}." We here in Canada are always... and I mean always astonished when we wake up in the morning that it is whatever day it is. If it's a Monday - we cant believe the weekend went by. If it's Friday - we cant believe the weekend is upon us. It's nice actually. Being astonished like this. Every day. Always exciting. In Canada, our preference is to have just one day. All the time. Every day. Saturday.

3. "What's your favourite bagel?" Sure - Timmies has doughnuts, biscuits, soup and sandwiches. But - it's the bagel that rocks our world. Everything bagel. Toasted with herb & garlic cream cheese. Yum. Or Cinnamon Raisin... toasted with butter. Just don't order from the corner of Belmont and Glasgow in Kitchener. They suck.

4. The final tip - and the best tip: "Can you believe the weather, eh?" Now kids... take Scrub's word for it. If nothing else - learn this phraseology. Black or white. Short or tall. Fat or thin. Man or woman. Hunter or fisherman. It doesn't matter. "Can you believe the weather, eh?" is the one phrase... no... make that the ONLY phrase you need to know in order to cut through a crowd and make a friend here in the Great White. Be sure to dedicate a good 5 minutes to the ensuing conversation. Yes - the conversation isn't really so much of a conversation as it is a verbal tennis match of single words or short sentences resulting in... well... resulting in absolutely nothing. Expect something like:

YOU: Can you believe the weather, eh?

THEM: I know!

YOU: Beautiful! (or Snowy, or Cold, or Rainy... you get the idea)

THEM: Ya. Too much.

YOU: Well, it could be worse.

THEM: That's fer shure. Could be (colder, wetter, snowier, nicer etc. again... you get the idea)

YOU: Then we'd be askin' for this.

THEM: Got that right.

YOU: At least it's not... (insert anything that is worse than what the current condition is)

THEM: That's fer shure.

YOU: Hey - how do I find the local trading post? (or whatever you are lookin for)

At this point - the Timmies patron and his or her pals now have accepted you into the circle and recognize you as a trusted friend. You will receive directions. They will also likely add "have a good day, eh" at the end. Listen for this phrase - you'll hear it regardless of any accent you might find in the country. This is your cue that the conversation is done and you are now free to travel again.

Don't worry if you didn't catch all the directions or instructions - there's another Timmies only minutes away and a fresh batch of Canucks, ready to lend a hand.

Just mention the weather.

"I know it was you Fredo. You broke my heart."

2009-11-07T20:59:00.002-05:00

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!

Evening boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Soooo.... The Wife is scrappin' outa town. The Kid - at Bing & Bong's place. Just Scrub and the lunatic dog at the igloo tonight.

Spent the day today soakin' up some of the last nice weather I think we'll be havin. Was outside beginning the shut down process for the shack 'fore the snow flies and the temp drops to -100.

Honest to goodness kids - there really ain't nothin to report. Sad, eh?

You'd think with the igloo to myself, I'd be havin' a wing ding or somethin' goin on. But nooooo. Had a date with the washin' machine. Me and the kitchen sink spent some time together. Oh - and the vacuum and I shared a rather intimate moment. Huh? OH C'MON... you know darn well what I mean. Sheesh. Filthy monkees.

So - tonight, Scrubs fillin his glass with golden nectar that is Crown Royal. And, in between folding some sheets and towels, he's puttin' his feet up and catching The Godfather II on the tube.

Chatted with the Wife earlier. She's havin a good time with gal pal the Joodster. The two of them with their scrappin' biz - In A Pinch Designs... just secured themselves another wholesale account. Some store somewhere that's gonna be carryin' their stuff. Not sure, off hand, where - but somewhere out there - ya'll are gonna be treated to some kewl paper and glue traditional scrappin'.

Oh - speakin' of scrappin... here's a little digi somethin'-er-other that Scrub put together.

As ya'll might recall, the Bro-In-Law, JR, brought over his wee fella, Whoagun, for the traditional Halloween visit. The squirt was dressed up in one of his favourite TV character costumes. So - Scrub thought "why not go all out?" hehe

I just love throwin the kids into scenes like this.

WooHoo Photoshop.

Choo-Choo!

2009-11-07T00:25:00.002-05:00

I consent. Give it to me.

Howdy kids. Scrubbie here. How are ya'll?

So - Scrub's still here.

Pumped full of Swine Flu juice. Arm is gall-darn'd sore. And, things are just tickety-boo.

Ok - for those who are pending gettin' the shot... It's not that bad. Really.

Typical shot in the arm. Left deltoid, intramuscular... just in case you were wondering.

Started earlier in the day - had to stand in line. As you can see - I was #498. I was aiming for #500. But - close enough. Stood in line for an hour and a half to get that wristband. Round these parts, all Scrubs and Scrubettes are being offered up the shot for free. This week - it's those at higher risk of complications if you were to happen to pick up H1N1. Scrub fits into that category. So - stood in line. Got my wristband. Left the clinic for a while. Went back around 5:30pm. Was in and out in about 40 mins. Smooth as silk. Everyone was just as nice as could be. Really well organized. Yep - was nothin but a positive experience.

Shot's a little different. Apparently, they're using shark liver oil as a suspension (or somethin like that). Makes the serum a little thicker than a typical shot. You can feel it. But - again... ain't that bad. Holy smoly though - talk about a sore arm afterwards. Feels like one helluva punch and bruise.

After we got the shot (the Wife and the Kid ended up comin' with. I picked up wristbands for them earlier in the day as well. Yep - they were "soooo surprised". hehehe.) (oh - and ya, they are in a higher risk category as well). Anyway... after we got the shot... nurse lady told us to make sure we move our arms. Keep 'em moving. Because the serum is thicker, she said, it can really stiffen up.

So - the Wife... came up with "choo-choo" and moving the arm. Like a train. Get it? The arm thingies of the train that makes the wheels go 'round. Get it?

The three of us - keep goin around everywhere - "Choo-Choo".

Oh ya. Not only seems to help - but gives ya a good case of the giggles too.

"You're gonna feel a pinch."

2009-11-05T08:36:00.005-05:00

Lord help me.

Morning kids. It's a squeamish Scrubbie here this morning.

Yes, m'darlin's - today is the day.

H1N1 shot today. Today. This afternoon. Only hours from now.

The Bro-In-Law, JR - ain't comin' with me.

The Wife - abandoned me.

The Kid - we're keepin him in school this aft instead of yanking him for the shot.

The Lunatic Dog - they wont do her.

I'm all alone.

Sigh.

Well - time to grow a pair. Buck up. Roll up the sleeve. And pass out like a man.

Wish me luck.

Ok - so my nephew Whogun stopped by Halloween night. The Bro-In-Law, JR brought the little fart over for a quick visit. See him there? With the Kid. Awwwwww. Cute, eh?

Like the background paper? Hop on over to my pal at Midnight Scrapping. Click away kids! Click away!

So - providing I survive the horror of this afternoon's shot in the arm... this weekend, 'da boys at Scrub's are all solo. That's right. The Wife and her gal pals are scrappin' outa town. It's a weekend affair too. Cartoons, chicken wings, pizza - here we come! WoooooooHooooooooo!

Alrighty - at this very moment - outside the window of Scrub's igloo - it is snowing.

Yes. That's right.

Snowing.

Frack.

This means, of course, that the Wife is gonna have to wrap her scrappin' stuff pretty good in plastic to survive the trip to her Scrappy weekend by dog sled. Wouldn't want all that paper gettin' wet, would we?

It's the Wednesday Mash-Up!!!!!!!!!

2009-11-04T07:49:00.010-05:00

It is hump day.

(avoiding dirty thoughts. avoiding dirty thoughts. avoiding dirty thoughts)

Greetings kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya?

Alrighty - it's Wednesday which means it's the Wednesday edition of Scrubbie. Which means it's the Wednesday Mash-Up.

(I know - it sounds like every Wednesday is the Wednesday Mash-Up. When in fact, I have never really done a Wednesday Mash-Up.)

(Frankly - not even sure what it means)

Reminds me - mashed potatoes tonight. That'd be good. The Kid loves mashed spuds. Whipped. Not chunky. And gravy. The Kid loves mashed with gravy. Anything that goes with it is secondary.

He also loves mashed spuds with chunks of cheddar cheese mixed in it. And bacon bits. Cheddar-bacon mashed spuds. That have been whipped with sour cream and butter in it.

Focus Scrubbie. Focus.

Ok - so the Wednesday Mash-Up. Nothing to do with mashed potatoes.

H1N1. Vaccination. Did I mention this? Did I mention that Scrubbie is a pansy. A woosie. A funkda-doodle. When it comes to defending my family against the forces of evil - Scrub is practically in tights and a cape. SUPERSCRUB! But - wave a .5mm shiny silver barrel in front of me and I am laid out flat like Superdude and kryptonite.

I dont like needles. Syringes. Hypodermics. Gawd. Dont like em at all. I had this one nurse once who was doing the injection thing call it a Happy-Stab. Who the hell makes up a name like Happy-Stab?

And, as I have a pancreas that is on vacation - diabetes and all... means I really should go get stabbed.

The crowds are pretty thick 'round these parts to get the shot. And, tomorrow is my day. Argh. Hopefully my dear Bro-In-Law JR is gonna get stabbed too. He'll protect me.

Hey - speaking of TV...

Me and the Wife watched the remake of "V" last night.

Remember - in the 1980's?

Oh ya.... the hair. the shoulder pads.

This was smokin hot Diana - one of the leaders of The Visitors.

Here to make a buffet of the human race. And, the ones that were'nt tasty enough to put on the menu - slavery.

Yes.... every boys dream.

Then... we flash forward to 2009...

And, here we have smokin' hot Anna - leader of The Visitors.

Here to make a buffet of the human race. And, the ones that aren't tasty enough to put on the menu - slavery.

Yes.... every boys dream.

Scrubbie loves progress.

So - the show - not too bad. Not bad at all.

This Anna - she's kinda a creepy good looking. Most intriguing.

We're looking forward to seeing how this all plays out. Hopefully - this doesnt turn out to be a disaster remake. Sometimes they are. Ummmm... Knight Rider anyone?

I dont know what to put in this whole Wednesday Mash-Up thing. Sounded like a good idea.

Hey - that reminds me...

Here's another layout of the Kid.

Yes - I have been having some fun with Halloween Layouts.

Lets just say I was infected with this festive time of year.

This was the Kid last year.

Surely - the Wednesday Mash-Up could have some kind of direction. Focus. Theme. I really gotta think here.

OH! Let me just start this next sentence with one word: Ugh.

Ugh. Yeseterday, the Weather Witchdoctor tells us that snow is a real possibility.

Say it with me kids: Ugh.

The Wife is out of ink in her printer again. We go through ink like water here. Lots of printing of instructions for Scrappin' kits. Lots.

I love bacon & eggs. Breakfast. Dinner. Yesterday - had bacon & eggs for lunch. I love bacon & eggs.

I don't love needles. Syringes. Hypodermics. Happy Stab - as one very psychotic nurse once called it.

Ok - well... I don't know. This Wednesday Mash-Up thing. I don't know.

Maybe not a good idea.

I'll think on it.

By the way... my favourite colour is blue.

I dont like cats.

K. I'm done.

Briefs.

Not boxers.

Today anyway.

Done.

My Space has been invaded. And I ain't talkin' about the website.

2009-11-03T07:58:00.004-05:00

My keyboard smells like roses.

Morning Scrublings. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

What's all this then?

Keyboard is smelling sweet.

Mouse is polished.

Screen is not marred with beer stains.

Somethin's not quite right.

Wait. Wait just a minute. Wait just a cotton-picken darn minute!

Things have been womanized. Big time.

Alright. Let me take a look around here.

C Drive. Yep - things are in order.

Documents folder. Yep - ok.

Pictures. OH! Found it.

Hmmmm. Yep - just as I thought.

The Wife.

Hmph.

See - The Wife - last night was in need of a little creative outlettin'. As ya'll know - m'darlin is a paper scrapbookin genius. Famous across the Great White and even down with some of our neighbours in the Red White and Blue. Heck - the Wife has even done creatin' for folks in Japan.

But - last night, instead of draggin' out 5.27 metric tonnes of supplies to whip together a scrappy page - the Wife grabbed hold of the 'ol Toshiba here and went mouse happy putting together a digi-page.

Sure - some fellas would feel threatened. Ya know - the women folk treading into man territory. Taking over what little he has left to call his own. Kinda like puttin air fresheners in the garage.

Not me.

I am completely secure.

Now, if you'll excuse me. Scrub's gonna gonna go redorate

the scrappin' room here at the igloo with his collection of hubcaps. Place needs a mans touch.

While I'm gone - check out what the Wife digitized.

Nice, eh?

Thanks for the Blog

2009-11-02T16:10:00.004-05:00

Merci, as they say in the other official language of the Great White North.

Afternoon boys & girls - tiz I - your ol pal Scrub.

JR - the Bro-In-Law. Ya'll remember him, right? Ripped. Dashing. An arse that just dont quit? Ya - him.

Well, JR has graciously given Scrub yet another blog entry.

See - my dear bro-in-law, whom I love very much, is a wonderful man. Good to his fam. Faithful. Caring. And, generously gives Scrub tidbits to blog about.

Take for example... just a few weeks ago, the dear fella gives Scrub a call on the hooter and the following conversation ensues:

Scrub: Hello?

JR: Hey.

Scrub: JR!

JR: Scrubbie!

Scrub: Whassup?

JR: Nothin'

Scrub: Kewl.

JR: Hey

Scrub: What?

JR: Guess what I'm dressing up as?

Scrub: What?

JR: Zorro

Scrub: How does your boss at work feel about this?

JR: No - for Halloween

Scrub: Oh. Kewl.

PAUSE

Scrub: Ya know, JR... The whole "Zorro" and the whole "The Gay Blade" thing... this is prime fodder for the ol blog, ya know.

JR: Ya. I know.

***

So, as you can well imagine - for the past number of weeks, I have sat in antici.... .... .... .... pation. (homage to Rocky Horror there).

And, as sure as the sun rises in the morn - my dear Bro-In-Law, in all his fabulousness... adorned with fake guy-hooker boots and all... arrived in his blacks and cape to strut his stuff.

Wanna see?

Oh - there ya go kids.

Ain't that awesome!

Personally, I think this is a good look for the 'ol boy.

Bein' all into "one-up-manship" - next year,

Scrub's gonna wear an outfit as well.

Wanna see?

Scroll down please.

I see you shiver with antici .... .... .... .... pation.

I'm Just A Sweet Transvestite

2009-11-01T16:27:00.003-05:00

No doubt you are all raising an eyebrow right 'bout now.

Heydee ho boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

No. In today's posting title, I was not referring to a fundamental shift in my sexual identity. No. Sheesh.

But, I gotta tell ya kids - there's just something not right about sittin' at home and watching. Just not right.

I refer, of course, to a home viewing of THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW.

At home - there's no throwing of toast. Or rice. Or the squirting up into the air of water.

At home - there's no crowds shouting obscenities at the screen.

At home - there's no dressing in garters, stockings, bling'd out monster heels and applying sweet glorious ruby red lipstick, delicious blue eye shadow and a string of honkin' huge pearls. Well not regularly. Thursday nights don't count.

All that stuff - only happens at the movie-house. And, it is such an important part of the whole Rocky experience.

Have you been?

Alright - if you haven't - you really must. Seriously. Find a showing at a theatre near you. Don't worry about anything - just go. Enjoy. Then come back. Trust me.

But - last evening, me, the Wife and our good friend Hurricane... (you remember Hurricane don't you? Stops to pee at a stranger's house. Target of voodoo practitioners? Ya - her) So - we all watched Rocky on TV last night.

I never really knew some of the dialog.

However, despite all the extras that normally go along with a showing of Rocky - I did find myself smiling for an hour and a half whist watching it.

Lets face it - Tim Curry as Frankie, Richard O'Brien as Riff Raff - how can you not smile each and every time they are on screen?

And, of course, yesterday was October 31st. Which means - Halloween.

The Kid and his punk friends - they got together to go and do a little Trick or Treatin'. Came back. Sugared up. And, there was a sleepover at Scrub's.

Scary movies. Candy. Late night Macaroni & Cheese.

As usual - good times.

The Night Before

2009-10-30T20:10:00.003-04:00

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door...

Goooood Eeeev'ning. Itssss Ssssscrubbie here kidlings.

Well ya - there's been many an incarnation of scary-boo-ness 'round the Scrub shack lo these many years. I think the first round for the kid - the Wife and me cut a hole in a pillowcase. Draped it over the Kid's head and badda-boom badda-bing - instant widdle ghost. I'm sure there is a pic floating around somewhere of him like that. I think that was back in the days of hard-copy only pics and our copy might have gone up in smoke with the fire. I'll have to check around with the fam and see if they have a copy I can digitize for future keepin'.

And, as the years passed, and the costumes came and went - one thing always remained. A good time was had by all.

In recent years, the kid bein' the little social butterfly he is, always has grabbed a punk pal or two to do some trick or treatin' with.

The pic there? Ya - that was last year. Punk pal Bobby and other punk pal Happy Meal - they joined the Kid for an evening of sugar.

This year? Well - bein the boy is a teen now... we'll see how the wanderin' around the neighbourhood thing goes. The Wife and me - we've never really had a problem with the older kids comin' around for a sugar fix at Halloween. Only when they are rappin' on the door later in the evening that it makes us cringe.

One thing for sure though - the Kid is havin a couple of buds over at the Scrub shack for a sleepover tomorrow night.

Hmmmmmm. Now that I am thinking of it. Punk pals. Teenagers. Sugar. And lots of it. Sleepover. Scrub's place.

Yes - I'll have to hit the local trading post to pick up a new lock so I can bolt the door to the engine room downstairs closed. That'll keep the little sugar-high testosterones contained.

Lets hope, anyway.

"Where did you leave your hand?"

2009-10-29T22:56:00.003-04:00

Look at them!

Howdy boys & girls - its Scrubbie 2.0 on a Thursday.

So, Scrub spent a couple 'a days talkin about when the Kid came into the world. And - look! 13 years later.

As ya'll may know - our lad was born missin' a few digits on one hand. Officially, he's an "amputee". Here, in the Great White, we have this fantastico organization called WAR AMPS. And WAR AMPS has this thing called the CHAMP program. CHild AMPutee. Get it?

Anyway - this past weekend, the CHAMP program had its annual CHAMP Seminar. It's a weekend where a whole whacka CHAMPS and their families all get together and there's sessions of info about prosthetics, body image, dealing with teasing at school, getting jobs etc etc etc. Honest to goodness - it is simply an amazing weekend.

The Kid - really... for the most part... doesn't have many issues to deal with. At school, he's got a pretty good group of pals that like him for who he is. The hand thing - not much of a problem. Every now and then though - it does get to him.

But, at these Seminars and with his amputee pals - even the Kid says he gets the giggles being able to hang out with other kids "like me". When they are all together, the fact that one of them is missing a few fingers - not a big deal. The fact that one of them has no legs - not a big deal. The fact that one of them doesnt have any limbs at all - not a big deal. They have fun with each other. They talk about amputation. They compare stories. They come up with solutions. They have a great time.

New families come to these things all the time too. Sometimes, the kids with the new families are a bit older and have just discovered the CHAMP program. Often though, the new families come with their itty bitty kiddies. The greatest thing is seeing these new families get thrown into this world and talking to them and watching them, over the course of the weekend, realize that their own widdle one who is missing an arm or a leg or arms or legs or arms and legs - they'll grow up to be just fine. Yep - there are challenges, but they'll grow up to be just fine.

It was particularly funny this weekend with one incident. See... there was another group at the hotel as well. This young hockey club was there. (welcome to Canada, eh. Always a hockey club on hand somewhere.) Anyway - young hockey club there. After the sessions and programming is done for the day...the kids always love hitting the swimming pool.

So, we were there. At the pool. And all our CHAMP families where there. 120 families at this thing. With their kids. And, we're at the pool.

Now, when you're dealing with amputees, some of them have swimming legs and swimming arms and such. A lot of the kids though - they like to drop the prosthetics and hop in the pool. So... there they all are. In the pool. And, around the pool... on the deck... there are tons and tons of arms and legs and hands.... just lying around all over the place. It really is quite the sight.

So - a few of these junior hockey players stop in to have a swim. They come to the door. I was there. Watching them. These young hockey players - they see all these arms and legs and hands lying around all over the place. Their eyes... literally drop out of their sockets and bounce on the floor like golfballs. Their jaws - hit the ground with a thud. Yes folks - hysterical!

The pics there in the layout. The Wife and The Kid havin a bit of lovin' time. Nice, eh?

Crazy 'ol gal.

2009-10-29T21:11:00.002-04:00

Oh that Mamma Scrub!

Evening kids. It's Scrubbie! Yeah!

Ok - now it's getting embarrassing. I mean - sure Scrub loves Mom and Mom loves her Scrub. But, seriously... she has GOT to stop.

Apparently she made some new friends.

See.....

The One Handed Wonder

2009-10-25T20:21:00.002-04:00

"No wait.... let me guess."

Evening Kids. Yer 'ol pal Scrub here.

Been a helluva weekend. Tell ya more laer.

First though - thought I'd close out the birthin' story with "the day after" note.

So - went to see the Kid as he is now a couple 'a hours old. I goes into the swaddlin' room and there before me are a few of these ooglie, wrinkly lumps. Oh - c'mon... don't be shocked... ya gotta agree that most newborns are pretty ooglie. Heads all wonky and such. Not ooglie enough to make ya wanna shove 'em back in. But, ya know what I mean.

Anyway - I goes in and says to the nurse "Hiya. I'm Scrubbie. Here to see the Kid."

"Sure" says the nurse. "Know which one is yours?"

"No. Wait... let me guess..." I says. So - I goes and takes a look. Well - damnd things all look the same. "Ya know.. it'd be a helluva lot easier if I could see the hands. Mine's only got one."

Anyway - got the kid - gave him a cuddle - and that was the first of many cuddles.

And... here we are... 13 years later. You'll agree... on one hand - 13 YEARS!!!! On the other hand - in a word: Whoosh.

Oh - was gonna write more kids -but Scrub's whacked tonight. It's been a helluva weekend and this old boy needs to do the feet up thing, the cuppa tea thing and the mindless TV thing.

Yep - world of zombie-vision... here I come.

Happy Birthday

2009-10-23T10:44:00.003-04:00

Holy Frack - I have a teenager at home!

Howdy kids. Old, frail, completely lost in the dark ages, and father of a teen... it's your 'ol pal Scrubbie here.

It's official boys & girls. The Kid - 13 today. Happy Birthday my son. When it comes to young'ens m'boy - you are the best! Your mommy and I love you tons. Happy Birthday.

So - last night - a little before midnight - we left the Wife not feelin' any pain. She was uber-tired. The kid was refusing to go slip-slidin' on out. Both the Wife and the as yet unborn Kid were both startin' to be a little distressed. And the fetus-fetchers had decided to use a Ginsu knife to snatch the kid. Oh - that's graphic. Should put a public service announcement on here.

So - the clock ticks forward and we are now Wednesday October 23, 1996. This was, in fact, "due date". The magicians with their magic ultrasound wands told us ages ago that this was going to be due date. Turns out they were right.

The clock strikes 2am and the fetus-fetchers come to get us. Scrub dons his doctorin' outfit so he can go in with the Wife while the squirt is brought out. And... once again - wont get into details... but ya know what goes on.

So - we're in there. And - yoink! There's the kid!

Somethin weird goin on though. The doc - she was lookin'.... well.... lookin strange. Her doctorin' partner and her were lookin at each other weird.

The kid - was taken over to the little "warm the fella up" table on the other side of the room. There - there was a bunch of folks givin' him the once over.

Somethin's not right.

Then, one of the nurses looked back at the Wife and me. "What's going on?" the wife and I say at the same time to each other.

Oh - here she comes. Little Scrub all swaddled up. This nurse was so very nice. Leaned down to us and showed us the kids face for the first time.

"He is beautiful!" she says... "There's just one little thing..." and she shows us his hand. "He doesnt have fingers on this side." she says. "If it's ok with you - we'd like to just check him out to make sure everything is ok." We said "sure". So - off he went back to the other side of the room with the whole team there and they gave the kid the once over.

In the meantime - the Wife is bein attended to. She isn't doin well. Again - spare ya the details.

Bout 20 mins later - nurse brings the boy back and tells us that things seem to be OK. There's a couple of things going on that put the kid into the intensive care unit - but overall - things are good.

So - there we are - by now, it's 3:30am. The Kid - all swaddled up and snoozin. The Wife - zonked and catchin some ZZZZ's. Scrub - still awake and in no way ready to sleep. So, I grabs a cuppa tea and go for a stroll.

The kid was born at a pretty major hospital here in Ontario. It's always a busy bustlin' place. But - not so much so at 3:30am. I was through the main floor of the hospital - not a soul. Out the main entrance - not a soul. Across the parking lot and over the parking garage - not a soul. And, despite the hospital being on the main drag of a major city - I stand right out there and as far as the eye could see - not a soul. It was really like some higher force pressed "pause" on life so Scrub would have a few seconds to catch his breath. I took a sip of my tea. I took a deep breath. And, I think to myself...

"I have a son. I have a family."

At this very moment - life... would never the be same.

Make it a Double Dose, please.

2009-10-22T22:23:00.004-04:00

"I dont wanna do this anymore!"

Yes Scrublings - its yer ol pal Scrub here once again.

We last left our heroine quite preggers, experiencing some discomfort and strolling the halls of the hospital with her dear Scrubbie in hand.

Well.... the aforementioned walk through the halls did diddly-squat in terms of bring the Wife any relief.

We did make a little stop at the telephone though. The Wife called up our dear friend Hurricane and immediately burst into tears saying "I dont wanna do this anymore!" Ummmm... bit late for that.

So - after a good boo-hoo... the Wife and me returned to our room. Things seemed to be calming down a wee bit.

We had planned to hang out and get in a game or two of Cribbage. So, we had brought all the goods to play - dug 'em out of the bag and plunked ourselves down to count to 15 a whole buncha times.

We managed to get the cards dealt. The Wife laid down her first card. "Four..... OHHHHHHH!" Contraction. Tears. "I can't do this!" More tears.

"Time for drugs?" I ask.

"YES" she says.

NURSE!

Well - will spare ya the details of the epidural. Will just skip to the end: "Ahhhhhhh". No more tears.

The Wife is nice and comfy now. Ummm... a little too comfy.

"Oh...." says Florence Nightengale, our Nurse. "I think we might have given you a little too much".

Apparently so. The Wife - cant feel nothin from her belly button on down.

The Wife - thrilled to bits with this development.

Anyway - hours and hours have gone by. Women have arrived. Shot out a kid. Cleaned up. On their way home. We are... still there.

Things seems to be moving a little slowly.

"Ya know, Mrs. Scrubbie..." one of the nurses says... "maybe we can help things move along."

"Really? How?" asks the Wife.

"We're gonna tie you up." says Florence.

"But that's how I ended up like this!" says the Wife.

Scrub - not in the room when all this went down. Scrub - returned to the room to find: 4 nurses, many bedsheets turned and twisted up, one preggo belly being supported up in the direction of boobies with said bedsheets, 5 women giggling. If this were an issue of Playboy magazine I would have started this posting by saying: "This never usually happens to me... but...."

Ya - it was pretty funny.

So - little more time goes by. Well.. a lot of time really.

Time's a ticking. Wait! What's this?! Somethin about a doc sayin that the Wife is all ready to get goin with the pushin.

"Ok, Mrs. Scrubbie..." says the nurse... "we're gonna ease up on your epidural now."

"Huh?" says the wife. "Why?" asks the wife. There is a distinct tone of... ummmm... panic in her voice.

"Well..." says the nurse... "we need you to be able to feel everything 'down there' when you're pushing."

"Now wait just a cotton-pickin' minute here. Nobody said anything about having to feel anything!" says the wife.

Despite a vigorous protest - the epidural was in fact eased back and sure enough - the wife was a' feelin it.

"Ok Mrs. Scrubbie... time to push. Ready? 1. 2. 3. PUSH"

Again - I'll spare the details.

Nothin. No kid. No nothin. Despite the pushin'. Nothin.

In our fetus-fetchin' room - there was this big 'ol light that the docs and nurses could roll around. They crank this mega watt thing on to get a good peek at the U-hoo and everything that's goin on 'down there'. Know what I mean?

The wife... being a Scrapper... says "oooooo - that's one helluva craft light! I want it!" (I know... seriously, eh?)

So - the light is on. It's practically daylight on one particular wifey area. There's the nurse and Scrubbie yellin "Come to the light! Come into the light!"

But - still.... nothin. No kid. No nothin.

Well - this went on for a while. A good while. The wife - after already bein at this whole givin' birth thing for the better part of 24 hour straight... was exhausted. The docs - had these machines that go 'ping' all over the place and told us that the Kid - appeared to be hangin on for dear life. Nice and warm in there. No reason to leave. (things haven't changed. STILL a stubborn little fart). And, according to the machines that go 'ping'... all this huffin and puffin wasn't good for either the little fella or his soon to be mommy. So - decision was made to yank him out with a C-section. Mommy - pretty much too exhausted to even care at this point.

So - epidural cranked up again. Nicely cranked up. Wife - bit of relief. Scrub - still awake. Time: a little before midnight on October 22nd.

Now - we wait.

The story continues....

***Addendum. Hey kids - Scrub here again. It's been a few minutes since I hit the publish button. The wife - just did a review of Scrubs writing and wishes for me to point out somethin. I mentioned that it's been almost 24 hours of this givin' birth thing. Well - minor correction. See - it was Monday morning at 8am when the whole process started and contractions began. So, in fact, now that it's almost midnight on Tuesday - we are WAY past 24 hours. WAY WAY past 24 hours. And, the Wife - at this time of a little before midnight on Tuesday October 22nd - is thinkin to herself: "Gosh Darnit... almost 48 hours of labour and NOW they wanna do a C-section? Why the hell couldnt we have decided this 47 hours ago?"

Now that I have made this correction - the Wife is going to put away the kitchen knife that has been positioned strategically in Scrub's direction.

Phew.

Phew - we made it!

2009-10-22T09:56:00.005-04:00

... the story continues

Morning boys & girls - it's yer ol pal Scrubbie here!

So - where was I? Oh ya... the Wife. The pending Kid. The fetus-fetchers. Got it.

The Wife and me - high-tailed it to the doctorin' facility without incident. No ERBDK needed.

Arrived. Went in.

"Good morning" I says. "I am Scrubbie. This is The Wife. We are here to have a Kid." It was all very orderly.

"Good morning Mr. Scrubbie, Mrs. Scrubbie" the lady says. "Mrs. Scrubbie - why don't you go in there and put on this little gown..." and the lady points to the fetus-fetchin' room.

We head in.

In the room beside us - there was another woman who was in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid. And, that woman beside us in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid....was a screamer. No other way to put it. She was a screamer. Not happy about childbirth. Not at all.

'Course - don't blame her. I mean - seriously. A kid. Out 'that' thing? No frackken way.

But...the important thing to know is... me and the wife - we're only separated from Screamer by a wall. Thin little wall.

The Wife - gawd lov'er - she went through that woman thing of "oh sure... lets go natural". And, was pretty much all set on it. Until Screamer.

Out of the Loo she came - eyes wide as saucers. jaw on the ground. sweat pourin off her brow. "I'm NOT going through THAT!" she says. "WHERE'S THE DRUGS!?"

Anyway - the Kid was still not due for a few hours - so the Wife and me made our way down to the cafeteria to grab a little breakfast. It was nice. Quiet morning. The smell of yummy stuff wafting through the place. It was nice.

Scrub - good 'ol bacon and eggs. Yum Yum. The Wife - fluffy pancakes. This was a mistake.

See - the Wife - she dribbled nothin more than a single drop of golden goodness on her frock. Just one small smackerin' of maple syrup. True Canadian nectar. But, for the next 42 hours - that wee dash of otherwise deliciousness was a permanent olfactory presence and lingered with the Wife through the whole day and night. My friends - The Wife... not a happy camper about this. Not one little bit.

We finish up our breakky and make our way back up to the room. The 'ol labour pains - comin' on a little stronger now. Time for some intervention. "Nurse!"

The Wife decides she wants to try Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. Fancy, eh? We got all the good stuff here in the Great White. So - this TENS machine - basically tries to trick your body into thinking that there's no pain.

Need a review? The Wife - she'll tell ya.... DAMN'D THING DOESN'T WORK.

She had that thing cranked up so high, hair was burnin, skin was rippling and smoke was comin out her ears. If you stuck a light bulb in her mouth - would have lit up the room.

Then - the worst part... the nurse (that poor woman) made the mistake of suggesting that maybe taking a walk would help.

I'm not entirely sure. It was all a blur. But, I am fairly confident that the Wife turned a shade of... well... it was definitely a shade of red. And, then there was somethin' about "you want me to walk to make this pain go away?" or something to that effect. Now.. the nurse wasn't really all that shocked by the Wife's reaction to her suggestion that a stroll down the hallway was the sure fire method to bodily bliss. What really shook the nurse was when the devil horns sprouted outa the Wife's forehead and fire blew out her nostrils. Ya - I think that's what did it.

Oh - just kiddin. We took a walk.

No - didn't help.

The story continues...

The day is fast approaching

2009-10-21T20:01:00.005-04:00

"Hi Honey... I think my water broke."

Howdy kids. It's Scrubbie at the keys tonight for yer readin' pleasure.

Yes boys & girls - that was the phrase that greeted me at 8:02am 13 years ago today.

See... the Kid - gonna be a teen only two days from now. And, every year, the Wife and me go through the 48 hours that lead up to the arrival.

So - I gets to work. The phone was ringing. Didn't make it to the phone in time. But, said to my pal there "bet that was the Wife sayin the Kid is on the way". Sure enough - 2 mins later - phone rings again. And, yep... the Wife says ... well... you know what she says. No need to get graphic, right?

Scrub hops in the go-kart and fetches the Wife and away we go to the fetus-fetcher.

But - While the bun was in the oven, and pretty near darn ready... things were'nt quite.... ummm.... ready... ummm... yet.

So - sent the Wife and me home to go and have a bit of supper. If the wee fella wasn't slip-slidin' on out overnight - they told us to return to the fetus-fetcher and they'd scare him out - or whatever they were gonna do.

Went home. Went and visited the parents - both sets. Ahhhh... the Wife... she was a'glowin'. Then, we went to a local eatery to scarf down some rotisserie chicken. Couldn't believe the Wife was in labour - and there we were - at a local eatery - scarfin' down some rotisserie chicken. But - there ya go. That's what we did.

Didn't make it through the whole night. The wife - she was feelin' it BIG TIME. So, we packed up again and headed out into the REALLY early morning.

Oh - important to note: Scrub and the Wife had an igloo that was a good .... oh... 50 mins by go-kart at full throttle away from the fetus-fetchin' building. 50 MINUTES! That's an hour if you factor in a stop at Timmies for a coffee. Which, of course, had to happen. We're Canadian, eh.

Now - Scrub was not interested in havin' the Kid make his grand appearance into this world on the side of the road. Nope - not one little bit.

But - as Scrub was a Boy Scout at one time - he remembered the motto "Be Prepared".

So - Scrub had his ERBDK ready to go. Packed. Ready to go.

Huh? OH - ERBDK? Ya - stands for Emergency Roadside Baby Delivery Kit.

Had all the good stuff in it. Couple of towels. Bottled water. Gloves. Turkey baster.

Huh? Turkey baster? Oh hell ya! Ya know - all them doctorin' shows. How they stick a turkey baster up the kids nose after they're born to suck out all the goo? Gotta have a turkey baster in your ERBDK. Obviously.

the story continues....

Uhhhh - What's yer name?

2009-10-19T10:20:00.002-04:00

"Please Sir, may I have some more?"

Morning kids - tiz Scrubbie here at the keyboard this morning. How are ya'll?

Oh - remember that line from "Oliver!" - then Mr. Bumble says "WHAT? MORE?" hehe - oh ya, I remember that well.

That's kinda how I feel today.

See - as you know, Scrub does this charitable organization thingy. And, being as there really isn't a magic money tree (damnit) - we have to go and ask for a few dollars here and there in order to do things for the kiddies around the community.

Well - today is one of those days that Scrub has to go in front of some folk that have cheque signing on their minds and tell them why it's a great idea of sign one of those cheques for this particular charity.

Oh sure - sounds easy. But - Scrub's never really done that before - so he is, well, ummm... kind nervous about it all. Specially since Scrub's goin in askin for more than 10 bucks. Lots more.

But - I'll just throw on extra underarm stuff, make sure the 'ol adult diaper is clean and head on in. Wish me luck. Oh - and make sure the ice cube tray is full, cause Scrub's gonna need a bevvy afterwards.

Hey - did I mention that Scrub's pappy is back from from the Health Hilton? Yep - home, safe and sound. Feelin' pretty good. Everything is back to normal.

Well - as normal as it gets 'round here.

And - bein as digiscrappin has been fast and furious these last few days - here's another little somethin' somethin'.

It's a few of the fam. Not all of 'em.

The Wife aint in the pic. She was hacking up a lung that day.

But - Cuzin Dolphin is in there. His folks - Uncle John (everyone has an Uncle John it seems) (oh - and it's HIS family that are the country bumpkin folk from the hills of West Virginny.) (don't take offense to that remark. he sure doesn't. self described, as a matter of fact) (oh - and for anyone from West Virginny who may be browsing the 'ol Scrubberoo today - here's a little evidence of Uncle John's origins - as heard in this phrase: "Lord willin' and the creek don't rise!" Sound familiar?)

Ummmmm - where was I? Oh ya - the fam. So - Uncle John, Auntie Jen (Scrub's mental connection), The Kid is there. So is Scrubby Mom and Scrubby Pop. Hey - off to the right - that's Scrub's baby bro. I don't quite know what to call him. Not yet anyway.

I'll have to come up with something.

That can be shared on the interweb.

*grin

Scrubbie Shares - Tool Time

2009-10-18T09:17:00.004-04:00

Morning Boys & Girls! It's your 'ol pal Scrubbie here on a frosty, chilly, sunny Sunday morning in the Great White North.

Alrighty - so it's time for another edition of Scrubbie Shares. And, Scrub has a freebie for ya and yer digiscrappin' pleasure.

Ya'll recall a while back, Scrub told ya about a nasty bit of business at the Scrub Shack? Few years back there was this, ummmm, fire. Big one. And, the Scrub Schack went bye-bye. All of it.

Anyway... long story made short... the Wife and me were able to dig out a few of the Scrappy layouts we had made over time that were all mangled and nasty lookin. And, through the miracle of photoshop and Crown Royal, Scrub's been mucking around with them to bring 'em back to life electronically. Kewl, eh?

Here - take a look. Little before and after for ya.

Not quite identical - but that first one did survive a million gallons of water, fire supression foam and the ravages of time. (Remember - Scrub's an old fart and the page was done with *gulp* paper about a hundred years ago)

Anyway - there's been some nice comments about Tool Time - so thought it'd be fun to do a little quickpage for ya. It's the Tool Time page - without the Kid in it. haha.

You know the drill - download, insert your pic and take all the credit yourself.

Oh - and as usual - my Terms of Use: Only use when enjoying a cool, refreshing beverage. Ummmm - that's about it.

So, without further ado... you can get the DOWNLOAD GIGGLES HERE!

Who loves ya? SCRUBBIE!

Hey Honey! Look! Somethin' shiny!!!

2009-10-17T22:09:00.002-04:00

" I see dead people"

Evening Scrubs and Scrubettes - it's yer 'ol pal Scrubbie here on a Saturday evenin'. Howz it goin?

Whoosh - Scrub is just back from another evening at Oktoberfest. This time, Scrub was hangin' at a real, honest to goodness fest hall. The Schwaben Club in Kitchener. Goodness, gracious boys & girls - it was a hoppin' place tonight. While there, was treated to some traditional German folk dancing and all. Also got entertained by a phenomenal band. Lots of beer steins. *giggle. Good times. Tonight - wraps up Oktoberfest for another year. Gotta put away the sauerkraut and sausages for another 356 days.

Sooooo - I see dead people. Well, not really. I'll let ya in on a little secret though. Scrub is a wee bit sensitive when it comes to stuff like that. Some of the friends and fam are already aware of this. Not a big deal.

But - reason I mention it is cause there is one person in Scrubs fam that Scrub is particularly "sensitive" to. It's my dear Auntie Jen. Love the 'ol dear to bits. There she is - just to the left there. With the Wife. In the pic. See?

But - me and Auntie Jen - we have this tendancy to feel what the other is feeling. No kidding.

If Auntie Jen bangs her elbow, I feel it. If I twist my ankle, Auntie Jen calls to tell me her ankle hurts. Freaky - yes. Funny - sometimes. Annoying - ya, pretty much.

It's been like this for years. Drives us both nuts. Everytime there is unexplained pain... the phone rings.

Ok - quick change of topic.

The Wife has control of the TV right now. She's got the remote. This saddens me. See... just this very moment - the Wife had the guide thingy that tells what's on and when. Ya know what I'm talkin about? So - I glance up on the screen. The following very short conversation ensued:
Scrub: "ooooo - Predator!"
Wife: "ooooo - Project Runway"
We are now watching Project Runway. *sigh

Gonna have to distract her and snatch the remote.

Oh dear Lord... Where's that Crown Royal?

2009-10-16T20:42:00.003-04:00

Pour yourself a coffee. Grab a tissue. She's at it again.

Evenin' kids. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

Boys & Girls - ya'll might recall the Wife and Scrub have a pal named Hurricane, right? You remember - dynamite under the driveway, gives directions to confused burglars who just burgled the neighbours house, locks herself IN her new car? Yep - her.

Well - our deal pal Hurricane is sittin' here - right beside me - on the couch - right now. Seriously. Glass of red wine in hand. Cuddled up in her usual spot.

And, the Wife, me and Rona have been chattin away.

During this wee chat of ours, we were discussin' our dear pal Hurricane and her bizarre exploits of the past. And, Scrub was reminded of yet another.

Oh - and, just as a reminder - these tales are all, in fact, quite true. Accurate. Not exaggerated. In any way.

Sooooo.... few years back - ya'll might recall that you could go to yer local trading post and swap out a skin or two for somethin' called a disposable camera.

Great little inventions they are. Grab one. Snap some pics. Take it back to the trading post and whiz-bang... a couple 'a days later... you gots yerself a mitful of photos to remind you of all kindsa fun had.

Hurricane - decided to take advantage of this marvelous invention.

Goes to the trading post. Swaps a skin. Gets herself a camera.

But - and you already knew this was comin. Didn't ya?

She snaps a few pics. And, bein' a disposable camera - chucks it in the bin. "It's a disposable" she thinks to herself. But... the kicker is... SHE IS SHOCKED WHEN SHE GOES TO THE COUNTER AT THE TRADING POST TO FIND THERE ARE NO PICS!

Now... lets just be clear here. The Wife and me - love the gal to bits. She's part of the fam. Been there for some 20 odd years now. Godmother to the Kid. (What were we thinking?) BUT... SERIOUSLY!?!

Holy jumpin' - Scrub needs a drink.

Scrubbie Mommy is at it again.

2009-10-16T08:38:00.002-04:00

Oh Mommy - you are sooo funny!

Morning boys & girls - Scrub here. Sniffly... but feelin' fine.

Alright - lets just get this outa the way up front. Scrub's fam - well.... a bit loony. Not to imply that we are all black and white, sing hauntingly and enjoy floating in water - like a Loon. Ya know... the bird. The Loon.

No - I mean more like - silly. Goofy. Unpredictable. Freaky. The kinda people that inspire people to cross the street when they see us strollin down the sidewalk towards them. Ya - that kind.

But - we're a loving bunch.

Seriously.

All of us.

Brothers, sisters, cousins, second cousins, third cousins, cousins twelve times removed, aunts, uncles - the whole extended bunch. All very very loving.

And we show it.

All the time.

No kidding.

Huh? Proof?

Well - take, for example, Scrub's mommy. Scrub's pappy is lying in a hospital. Clinging to life. (welll... not really clinging to life. he's gettin' along just fine). And what does Scrub's mamma take the time to do? Take a look. Mamma loves Scrubbie.

Only question I have is: Who the hell is studly there?

A whole lotta nuthin'.

2009-10-15T21:29:00.003-04:00

Brrrrrrr. And, I mean Brrrrrrrr!

Evening boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How ya'll doin?

Not much happenin'. And what is happenin' is, of course, pretty menial.

So - lets get goin, shall we?

The Wife - School - good. Doing a "Human Resources" component. As this is Scrub's area of expertise, we find ourselves chattin about her homework quite a bit. Currently at 2 o'clock to Scrub, in the marshmallow chair, cuppa tea in hand, jammies on, scrappy stuff on the folding table in front of her, eyes transfixed on the yahoo's on this seasons serving of Survivor.

Lunatic dog - at 3 o'clock to Scrub - on the floor - tongue thing goin on. Ya'll recall our neurotic fuzzball has this thing where she licks licks licks. Not people - just the floor and the air. Looks like a lizard. Her tummy is full. She's a content 'lil bitch.

The Kid - in the engine room. Hangin out. Bing of Bing and Bong fame is here right now. Or was at least.

Scrub - well, bit of the sniffles. Nothin' serious. Not H1N1 anyway. Cuppa tea in hand. And, just as intrigued by the yahoos on Survivor as they blend up all kindsa beasties such as giant clam, octopus and crap like that in a blender to make up a mega gross smoothie. Geez - not for me. Blech.

Scurb's pappy - well, the ol boy is in the hospital right now. All kindsa stuff goin on with his insides. But, he's in good hands and I'm sure will be comin' home soon. Scrubbie Mommy, Scrub's baby brother and Scrub rushed the old fella up to the local doctorin' facility comin' up on a week ago. Rough shape back then - but comin' around nicely.

And, a little digiscrappin happenin'. Check this out.

Who is this you ask?

Well - it's JR of course! Scrub's bro-in-law... dashing, sexy, slightly damaged, happily medicated. Yep. That's him.

Cute eh?

The digi goodies can be found here:

http://creativedelusionzscraps.blogspot.com/2008/10/boyz-rule-freebie.html

Ok - so, I mentioned BRRRRRR. Yes - Scrub lives in the Great White. I get it. I'm kewl with it. But - geez louise - the weather forecast for tonight is snow! C'MON!!!!!

Well - there it is kids. That's all I got. As soon as these sniffles are gone, Scrub will head out into the world. As you know - there's always a few odd folk kickin' around. I'll see who I can dig up. And, of course, ya'll be the first to know.

Later!

Caution.

2009-10-14T09:38:00.004-04:00

The rutabaga, swede (from Swedish turnip), or yellow turnip (Brassica napobrassica, or Brassica napus var. napobrassica) is a root vegetablethat originated as a cross between the cabbage and the turnip.

Morning Boys & Girls - It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

Yes, the lowly rutabaga or yellow turnip. Culinary underdog. Delicious houseguest. And, as it is a root veg - friend to many a pioneer.

Ahhhh - how we love to simply toss it's fleshy core into a pot of steamy water that has been hit with a good pinch of salt. How we relish draining away the cooking liquid and tumbling the soft chunks into a bowl - watching the steam billowing up. And, that moment of dolloping creamy golden butter onto the shards and seeing it slide down and in between the cracks of each goldenrod piece just moments before a firmly gripped masher plunges into the bowl.

A wonderful mass of fluffly goodness sits before you - dotted with a peppery black flakes - and cries for a fork to bring up a taste. This, my friends, is how the Borg came up with the phrase "Resistance is futile".

Like a bride to its hearty meat groom, their pairing is perfect, loving and everlasting.

Yes children - today is the day. Go. Now. Forage through your local trading post or dig with anticipation through your fields and retrieve an orb or two. In no time at all - you will be in tastebud heaven.

Just don't turn up to your in-laws' without preparing at your own igloo first. Your mother-in-law will be pissed.

Happy Thanksgiving Canada!

2009-10-12T06:22:00.002-04:00

I am gravely concerned.

Morning boys & girls. It's good 'ol Cuzin Scrubbie here.

Yes, my friends, I am gravely concerned.

First, however, I must report on Thanksgiving Dinner with the Outlaws. Deelishushus. Simply put. The wife - her mammy and pappy treated the Scrubbie Fam to a wonderful dinner yesterday, as you know. Good times.

Ok. So - here in the Great White... this weekend is our Thanksgiving Day celebrations. Nice eh? Our neighbours to the south - they have theirs comin' up soon enough. Other parts of the world - yer probably wonderin' what the hell all the fuss is aboot. (I threw in the "aboot" for those of you abroad who get the giggles when we Canucks say things like "oot and aboot" rather than "out and about".) Well, round here, in the Great White, we tend to throw a party whenever there is anything to do with a harvest. Seriously. Well - as you know, we have snow on the ground and minus 400 degree weather a good chunk of the year - so anytime we have a chance to grow somethin', yank it out'a the ground and shove it down our gullets - it's a party!

Anyway... ya, today - Thanksgiving. Oh - and I really should say: "Happy Thanksgiving to all in the Great White today!"

So, yesterday, the fam was with the Outlaws doin dinner. Today, Scrub and the fam have a full day. Thanksgiving Day Parade today. This aft - headin' to Scrub's mamma and pappa's for more consumption of mass quantities. (did you get that reference as well? No? Coneheads. ?? No? K - don't worry)

Parade? Oh ya- we have a Parade here too. Part of it is to celebrate Oktoberfest. Part of it - Thanksgiving. An event particularly for the Scrubbie fam 'cause the Kid is part of the parade. See - we take all the children of our village and hook them up to the trailers and floats and yell MUSH to get them to pull the displays of harvest veggies and such through town. Kinda show off our strapping youngsters to others. Give the dogsled teams a break for once. Nice, eh?

giggle

Ok Ok - no... we don't really do that. But, the Kid is a part of the parade.

As you may recall... the Kid can only count to 8 unless he's naked. He was born missing a couple 'a digits on one hand. Blah, blah, blah... long story. Suffice to say that it was just one of the spontaneous birth things and everything is kewl. But - as the Kid doesn't have a matching set of hands... we belong to the WarAmps. Great organization. Look it up sometime.

And, as the Kid is but a youngster, he belongs to the CHAMP program which is part of WarAmps. Also very kewl - check it out sometime.

And, the WarAmps program has a float in the Thanksgiving Day Parade here.

See - all coming together now, isn't it?

And, the Kid - is riding ON the float in the parade.

And, as the Kid ain't of dogsleddin' age just yet - his parents are required to escort the little bugger around.

And, as the parade kicks off early in the morning and there is oodles of prep that needs to happen 'fore the bands and floats go marching on through town... we have to get there early.

And, as winter is approachin' and days are gettin shorter and the earth's axis and rotation 'round the sun and... *gasp, huff and puff.... well.... you get the idea.... bottom line - ITS TOO DAMN DARK OUTSIDE MOST OF THE TIME.

So - Scrub, who incidentally LOVES his warm cuddly bed with his warm cuddly blankies and his warm cuddley lunatic dog and warm cuddly wife is waking up early, in the dark and in the cold, on a holiday Monday to look out frost covered windows into the blackness that his brain and body are still calling night.

I love bein Canadian.

But - as eluded to earlier... I do have some grave concerns.

Apparently, Scrub's Happy Pills ain't workin. Hmmm? Why? Well - 'cause I can still hear the little voices in my head calling me an idiot and telling me to go back to bed.

THATS WHY!

The Outlaws

2009-10-11T17:03:00.002-04:00

Oh - it looks so different!

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrub here slammin' on a white keyboard for a change.

Alright - just to make things interestin - Scrub is takin a wee moment to do a little interweb blog thing from a different locale. Right now - the wife, the kid and Scrub are hangin at the Outlaws' place. High in the sky. And, we're just about to sit down to a yummy dinner. Well... lets hope its a yummy dinner!

I'll let ya know soon.

Prost!

2009-10-11T10:00:00.003-04:00

Zicke zacke zicke zacke hoi hoi hoi!

Guten Tag Jungs & Madels! Ihr alter Jumpel Scrubbie hier!

Yes kids... that is German there. Well, at least German as our good friends at Google have suggested.

So - why throw a little bit of an acce
nt into Scrub's blog today? Well - Scrub was out 'a festin' last night. OK - so not "really" festing. See... as you may recall, when Scrub isn't bein a pappy - or a hubby - or a 9-5 slugworm... Scrub puts in a few hours bein a volunteer for a child-safety oriented organization. And, last night, Scrub and few of his pals were out selling some Oktoberfest trinkets. We get a portion of the proceeds to fund the organization.

Good times kids. Seriously good times. Last night, was at a Fest Hall called Heidelburg Haus. This particular venue is not one of the traditional German fest halls. We gots a few of them 'round here. See... Kitchener, where Oktoberfest happens, is steeped in German heritage. In fact, the city was once called Berlin. But, having the city called Berlin kinda fella outa fashion and it was renamed to Kitchener. (Geez - history lesson on a Sunday morning. Weren't ex
pecting that were ya?) Anyway... Fest Halls. Ya. So Heidelbug Haus is not a traditional German fest hall. In fact, it hold particular appeal to the younger folk. University and College folk. Oh sure - there's a contingent of us middle agers there. And, there's always the die-hard Festers that travel hall to hall through all 9 days of the celebration. But, most of 'em - are mega hormoned students who tend to keep the barley-malt-and hops bevvies flowing pretty good all night long.

Oh - it was one of those people-watching adventures for sure.

Couple of great bands crankin out music.

Smell of Bavarian food permeating every corner of the hall.

Yep - for 3 and a half hours last night - Scrub was in sensation heaven.

Oh - there there was this there too.

Prost!

**The Wife Here...** Scrubbie...you conveniently forgot to tell me about the volumptuous beer steins! Hmmmmmm! We need to talk...

Another Scrubbie Surprise!

2009-10-07T08:33:00.003-04:00

Morning boys & girls. Yer favourite Uncle Scrubbie here. How are ya?

Oh kids - Scrub has a mega treat for ya this mornin'!

First - Scrub has to thank his pappy. See... Papa Scrub is one of them thar peeple that just gets the giggles over sending out email jokes. Ya know how it is - those constantly moving "hey... check this out!" messages that fill yer inbox. Now... don't tell anyone - but Scrub is one of those that generally don't get into opening up all them email. I dunno... kinda reminds me of bein a young testosterone and trolling for gal-pals at those seedier alternative bars. You take your chances. Know what I mean? Viruses. Bugs. Never know what yer gonna get when you open up.... well - no need to explain further, I'm sure.

But - when the message popped up in my interweb thing - the title included words that attracted Scrub like a moth to a flame. In fact, you might even say "Resistance was futile."

Scrub does have to warn ya though - this may not be for everyone. Sure... some of you will just howl. Wenchie - I can only imagine the Timmies will be pourin out the nostrils. You are duly forewarned.

Others of you who are of the fairer sex - I got a 50/50 chance this will generate the kinda giggles it did for me. If you are one of them that doesn't quite appreciate it - find someone in yer life with a willie. Sit him down. Dial up Scrubbie and go to it.

Oh - and ya... Scrub has already forwarded to all his pals with the message "Hey - check this out!" Guilty as charged.

Kids - get ready for yet another Scrubbie Surprise!

All set? Okie Dokie... CLICK AWAY!

Oh Stop It. Yer Makin' Me Blush!

2009-10-03T17:02:00.003-04:00

Geez - I get so embarassed over stuff like this.

Heydeeho kids. Scrub here.

So - ya'll recall Scrub talkin about Mamma Scrubbie, right? How Scrub loves his ma and his ma loves her Scrub?

Look at what the 'ol girl is up to now!

Well - gotta run boys & girls. The phone is gonna ring any minute now - or when Mamma Scrub reads this post.

*giggle

Boo. Analyzed.

2009-10-03T08:04:00.002-04:00

Boo.

Good morning one and all. Yer 'ol pal *yawn* Scrub here.

Boo could be the beginning of a teary session... when combined with 'Hoo'.

Boo could be the supporting little girl character from the movie 'Monsters Inc.'

Boo could also the word the wife uses when calling out to Scrubbie to collect and destroy some nasty bugger of a bug that is threatening the Wife's very existence. Well - it tends to be more like "BOO!!!"

However... today the word Boo is a quick little reference to Halloween. Ya know... Boo.... as in "Oh - that is scary-boo!"

That wonderful pagan event is creeping up up on us once again.

The Wife and me - we're kinda hoping for a rerun of last year.

Last year - our good pal Hurricane came over. You remember Hurricane, right? Locks herself IN a car? (I know - still cant get that wrapped around your brain, right? Welcome to our lives). Anyway... Hurricane came over and we three plunked ourselves down in some comfy lawn chairs outside cause it was nice out. Had ourselves a wee cocktail. And the brats coming to snarf themselves some sugar just came up to see us in our chairs - we handed out packets of sugar - and they went on their way. The point is - it was nice enough that evening to enjoy the whole thing outdoors.

And whilst outdoors basking in the Scary-Boo-ness of it all... Scrubs' wee nephew and neice came over.

There they are... Whoagun and Dancer. All tarted up. Cute, eh?

Soooo..... morning at the igloo here. Wife - still with the Joodster. Kid - still at Bing and Bongs'. Lunatic Dog - still curled up. Yep. Have made real progress.

Ahhhh - I love Saturdays.

Options.

2009-10-03T00:00:00.002-04:00

Kill the MP3's and turn up your speakers.

Hi there boys & girls. Yer 'ol pally-boy Scrub here. How ya'll doin?

Ok - so speakers are turned up? Good. Now listen.

Shhhhh - listen carefully.

Hear that?

That, my friends, is the sound of Scrub all by his lonesome on a Friday night.

See... the Wife - she's with her gal pal the Joodster at a Scrappy retreat tonight. They are flogging their Scrappin' kits to a buncha gals who are croppin' en masse this weekend.

The kid - sleepin' over at Bing and Bong's tonight.

Lunatic Dog - well, she has snuggled herself up all cozy like on the kid's bunk.

So - what does Scrub do on a Friday night when he gots the place to himself.

Option 1: call up a few buds. throw a few wobbly pops on ice. pull out a deck of cards. clear the table. And - git a raucus game of poker going complete with cigars, pretzels and chips. All while regailing tales of sexual conquest.

Option 2: screw the buds. get on the horn and invite a few gals over and whoop-dee-doo.

Option 3: eat a bowl of frosted flakes. pour a rye and coke. watch The Matrix in comfie jammie pants. And, do a little digiscrappin.

Hmmmmm.....

Ok - so the frosted flakes were a wonderful moment of diabetic naughtiness. The rye is oh-so-good. The fight scene in the lobby when Neo and Trinity are going to rescue Morpheus is rockin'. And, here's the page:

So. There it is. Friday night.

Have mentioned this before - but just in case there's a newbie floatin' around somewhere... important to know that we Canucks only really discuss a few different things. Hockey. What we take in our Timmie's coffee. And, of course, the weather.

Our pals in the western part of the country are enjoyin snow. And, here in Scrub's neck of the woods - we are enjoyin frosty mornings, very wet days and ultra chilly nights. In a word: Brrrrrrr.

I tell ya boys & girls... Scrub knows there's a few of ya comin' from warmer clime's where a chilly day means you have to ditch the thong for the beach that day and turn to something more like a half-suit for swimmin'. Uh-huh. Don't know what yer missin'.

mmmmm.... rye #2 is just as good as rye #1. Equally delicious, as a matter of fact.

Delicious. That word reminds me oh so much of yet another in the cast of characters that makes up the life of Scrubbie. In a not too distant future post - I'll have to introduce you to HOOPS.

Vrooom!

2009-10-01T20:19:00.012-04:00

Kinda feel like I'm on THE PRICE IS RIGHT.

Evenin' kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here at the keyboard tonight.

OOOO - it's sooo shiny!

So sparkly!

And brand spanky new!

Alas - not mine.

See... me and the wife - our pal Hurricane... ya'll remember her, right? Sis named Tornado. Baby Brother named Tsunami. Those who have breakables at home don't invite her over. Ya - her.

Anyway... our good pal Hurricane - went and got herself a new buggy. One of them horseless ones!

LOOK AT IT!

Scrub got to go for a ride in it. It was suh-weet!

Oh - and 'cause we here in the Great White tend to get a little chilly now and then - what with the snow and all... this wee buggys' got heated seats! Turned 'em on - Scrub's arse was all toasty. Nice, eh?

Electric this. Electronic that. Scrub's jealous.

Look at Hurricane there. All proud and such. Grinning away.

'Course the buggy pick up was not without adventure. Hurricane style, naturally.

Scrub was there. With Hurricane. When she picked up her new buggy.

Not 5 minutes after the engine was fired up for the first time... our good pal Hurricane was still in the lot of the car dealership... when she... ummmm... stopped the buggy and appeared, from my vantage point driving in the go-kart behind her, to be rather panicked about somethin'er other. Arms flailing about and all. Made me wonder if there was some kinda monster killer bee in the buggy or somethin. So - Scrub got out of his go-kart and ran over to render assistance.

Nope - not a killer bee. Hurricane... she locked herself IN the car.

Yes - I said locked herself IN the car.

I know, I know. It's no use. Trust me on this. The wife and me gave up trying to figure stuff like this out a long time ago. Life is so much easier that way.

The Snack That Didn't Smile Back

2009-10-01T07:02:00.005-04:00

Delicious?

Good morning boys & girls. Your 'ol pal Scrub here.

Scrub loves to share. Learned that from mommy and a really great year in kindergarten.

Check the following little excerpt Scrub just copied and pasted from his morning troll of the daily news:

September 30, 2009
PASADENA, TEXAS — Authorities say a Houston-area woman who was angry with her former common-law husband fried their pet goldfish and ate some of them.
Pasadena police say it’s a civil matter and no charges will be filed. The seven goldfish were purchased together by the couple during happier times.
Police spokesman Vance Mitchell says the man reported on Saturday that the woman took the goldfish from his apartment.
Mitchell says the two argued earlier about some jewelry the man had given her but took back. She wanted the jewelry returned.
Officers who were dispatched to the woman’s home arrived to find four fried goldfish on a plate. The woman said she already ate the other three.
The Associated Press

Ummmm...... ya.

Someone is riding the koo-koo train ALL the way to the station.

The New Family Portrait

2009-09-24T21:21:00.004-04:00

*sniff, *sniff. Can you smell that?

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here - all sparkley clean and completely sanitized.

Now, don't panic. It aint H1N1. Or Swine Flu. Or whatever the hell ya wanna call it. But, it's a doozie - whatever it is. The Wife... poor thing... she's got a cold. Nasty little bugger too.

Scrub hopped in the go-kart and fetched from the local druggist a few of them modern pharmaceuticals so hopefully the 'ol gal will feel a bit better for bedtime.

Oh - that lovely smell I was mentioning... bleach. Oh ya baby. Scrub loves bleach.

I use the stuff most of the time - but when someone at the Scrub shack has got the sniffles - that's when it comes out in full force. Door handles. Taps and knobs. Countertops. Glassware. Cutlery. Toilets. You name it - it gets bleached. Sorta explains why the lunatic dog is so shining white, doesn't it?

Place smells like a swimmin' pool. hehehe. I love it.

So as the Wife ain't feeling good... instead of playing our usual Thursday night family game of rugby, the wife and me are just hangin out with the kid and we're taking in an episode of Survivor on the tube. Oodles of fun.

But - Survivor is done now and this old boy is whacked. The kid wants tucking in. Shure - he's almost a teen... but every now and then - he does enjoy bein tucked in with Tigger and his blankies so he's all cuddly-snuggly. Awwwwwwwww......

Oh - before I go... thought I'd show ya'll a wee family pic.

See - that's us. Ain't we just all that and more.

Awwwww......

Yesterday A Child Came Out To Wander...

2009-09-22T20:26:00.004-04:00

Oh dear Lord - what have I done?

Evening boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrub on the Toshiba ce soir.

Alrighty... so back when dinosaurs ruled the earth, and Scrub was a strapping young lad with but a few years under his belt, he was a... get ready for it.... Camp Counselor.

Go ahead - get yer giggles over with. I'll be here when ur done.

There. Back? Wiped the laughter tears from yer eyes? Ready to read on? Ok then... lets continue.

So, ya.... Camp Counselor.

Oh heavens to mergatroid... there ya go again with the giggles.

Anyway - it was the 80's. Mid 80's. Ya know... Flock of Seagulls hairdo's and all. I know - disturbing, isn't it. Blah, Blah, Blah... long time ago.

Never would I have thought back then - whilst romping around in our little communistic, utopian society there at camp - that at some point in the future... 24 years in the future to be exact... that Scrub would be headin' back there to kibbitz with some of the other whackballs that made that little piece of property home for a couple of months outa the year.

Oh - and not just a little visit, chit chat and cya later. Oh no. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Scrub - and the other whackballs - it's a SLEEPOVER too! Bwah-ha-ha-ha! Oh Lordie. Now Scrub's gotta get the tissues out.

Holy crap. A sleepover too. Now - lets just be clear on all this shall we? As this is an all day Saturday event with sleepover to Sunday morning... here are a few of the tidbits Scrub has to look forward to:

- camp pottys

- melmac dishes

- fruit punch. warm.

- camp food. including, no doubt, mac & cheese, hot dogs, beans, and the like.

- songs - lots of 'em

- skits - which we will have to perform

- 'skeeters. oodles and oodles of skeeters.

- camp bunks... stacked one on top of t'other

Well - it'll be fun. I am sure of it.

Hmmm? what's that you ask? the fam? Yep - they're all invited. The Kid - he's comin. The camp will have staff there for the event that'll help with some of the younger and older offspring of all of us. The young'ens will be treated to some waterfront activities - canoeing and kayaking (mainstays of youth learning here in the Great White... in case yer wonderin') (that, and hockey) (which will be happening as well). They'll also get to do some archery (more Canuck learnin'. C'mon.. whaddya expect - we're hunters here in the Great White. Gotta be. Sometimes, it's forever and a day 'fore you get to a trading post by dogsled) Anyway - suffice to say, there's oodles for the little brats to be engaged in and with so us older folks can take in a few wobbly pops and shoot the shite about life ove the last quarter century. Frack.

The Wife? Oh hell no. Nope, the Wife ain't into the camp thing so much. She's got her own plans though. Scrapbookin'. Of course.

The pic? sure - lemme describe...

Scrub - there on the far left.

Next guy - cant remember. next - Long. He's a Toronto fella. next - Weav. guy in the white in the middle there - Logan. Had sex with anything that moved. Bear - next to him. Green shirt - Stef - new wavy to the core. darker green near the end - my namesake doppleganger and good guy. disturbed, but good guy. on the end in the traditional Canuck plaid lumberjack - he was the best man at Scrub and the Wife's wedding.

All the backs of heads in the foreground.... ya, have no idea. I think the one with the ribbon in her hair... she was snoggin' my namesake doppleganger. Oh the memories.

Huh?

2009-09-19T19:33:00.003-04:00

Maybe it's the ADD. Maybe it's 'cause I'm over 40.

Evening kidlets. A rather confused Scrubbie here at the QWERTY tonight.

For some reason, over the last few weeks, a number of folk around Scrub's part of the Great White North have been askin' questions about the Lunatic Dog.

She's an absolute darlin'. I mean completely, utterly and totally cute as a button. Neurotic, goofy and looney - but just a wonderful little fuzzball. Lov'er to bits.

She's a mutt. Cross between a Spitz and a Poodle. A Sp'oodle. Or S'poodle. Or Spoodle. Whatever.

She's got one ear up (the Spitz) and one ear down (the Poodle). Hysterical.

She's got this tongue thing. It's the neurotic side of her. Does a lot of licking. If we don't stop her - she licks a hole in the carpet. She's not lickey with faces and such. Blech. But everything else. Even the air. Kinda makes her look lizard-ish.

So - as mentioned - seems there's been some interest in the 'ol bitch lately. "Awwww - she is sooooo cute!" they say.

"She's so well behaved!" they say.

"How old is she?" they ask.

I reply "just turned 3! Still lots of puppy in her though!" (her birthday was in April)

And the ooo'ing and ahhh'ing continues.

BUT...

(there is often a "but", isn't there...)

BUT... Scrub was electronically flipping through some pics today. You know how it is. Hop on the 'ol external hard drive and start going through thousands of pics that you really should be deleting... but just never do.

So - was clicking here and clicking there... and came across this pic.

Cute, eh?

It's The Wife and the Lunatic Dog when she was just a wee thing.

I remember that day. We packed up the fuzzbucket and the Kid and off we toddled to the park. Enjoyed an impromptu picnic. Was a beeeeuteeee of a day.

Glanced down at the date of the photo.

"What's that?" I thinks to myself.

June 2004 it says.

The 'ol Scrubbie brain goes into high gear. Could hear it whirring inside my head. The smell of smoke filled the room. The Wife - got the fire extinguisher out.

"Lets see..." I thinks. "It's Sept 2009 right now." ummmm.... "And this pic was taken in June 2004." ummmmm.... "Holy Frack - the lunatic dog is 5! Not 3!" ummmmmm.....

So - I dont really know what happened there. But, for some reason, the fuzzy bitch has been 3 for a couple 'a years now.

Geezuz - no wonder the Kid gets pissy with me when I tell him it's time to change his diaper.

I Love Scrubbie

2009-09-16T09:39:00.004-04:00

There's no gettin' around it kids... Scrub loves his mommy. And, Mommy loves her Scrub. Yep.

Morning boys & girls - yer 'ol pal Scrubbie doin' the interweb blog thingy this morning.

So - did ya'll catch Big Brother last evening? Oh hell ya - the Wife and Scrub get the giggles over brain candy television like that. Sure - we do National Geographic, Documentaries and often take in the local news where they share stories of a family in the neighbourhood gettin' indoor plumbing for the first time... But, brain-mush TV is good for a popcorn night fer shure.

If you haven't seen it yet - ya'll might wanna scroll down cause Scrub's gonna spill the beans here.

JORDAN! are you kidding me? The Wife and me laughed our arses off last night. Mostly cause of the expressions on everyone else's faces. Well - good fer her. It was entertainment plus.

So - mentioned Mommy moments ago. She's a peach.

Just turned 70. Seriously. Lookin hot. Funny as hell. Ya - she's a goody alright.

Even with all the attention on the 'ol gal this past weekend with her s'prise party and all... Mommy still took a moment to share her feelings about her eldest.

Awwww... look at her.

Ain't that sweet.

*giggle.

I Can See For Miles and Miles and Miles.

2009-09-14T09:00:00.003-04:00

There's an echo in here. in here. in here. in here.

Morning boys & girls. Yer old pal Scrub here this morning.

The Kid sauntered off to school. Scrub dropped the Wife off at school. And, now... Scrub has the igloo all to himself. Well - almost all to himself. The lunatic dog is here. But... really... she has already found her comfy spot on the sofa and is gettin her morning nap in early.

Gee willikers - it's quiet round these parts. Shhhhhh.... don't tell anybody - but - I LOVE IT!

Finally - can get all liquored up in the morning without having to listen to screaming and shouting. hehehe

So... it was a weekend filled with birthday times. As you recall, it was Mamma Scrub's 70th on Saturday. What I couldnt tell you before is we had a s'prise party for the ol dear. (Mamma Scrub does peek at the blog - but truthfully only comes for the pics. Despite the fact that she is Scrub's mommy - she doesnt read a damnd word here. So, I guess I could'a told you earlier - but that would have been the ONE time she actually does skim through the verse. No matter - I'm telling you now.)

Where was I? Oh ya... the s'prise party. So - ya... got the fam and friends together and we all shouted S'PRISE! And, all Mamma could say was "Oh Shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!" hehehe. Gawd love'er. Good times.

Yep - there'll be pics and more detail - but later.

To kick off the pic lineup though is this one of Scrubs Cuzin Dolphin and the Kid. Dolphin there - he's the hillbilly with family still livin in the mountains of West Virginia where they grill roadkill and have contests to see who can throw farm implements furthest down the hill. Oh ya - good times.

So - enough of the keyboardin... Scrub's gotta git to work here. They don't take buttons at the local trading post ya know.

MCMXXXIX

2009-09-12T07:28:00.004-04:00

1939

Morning Boys & Girls. Yer old pal Scrubbie here.

World War II is raging on. Rosalind Russell and Benito Mussolini were gracing the covers of LIFE magazine. Commercial transatlantic passenger air service begins. Less than 60% of families in the United States own an automobile. The first Volkswagons roll off the assembly plant in Wolsburg. Hewlitt Packard is founded. Bell Laboratories begins construction of a prototype computer. The worlds first electronic calculator is built. FM radio receivers go on sale for the first time. BATMAN makes his debut. Cup-sizing for brassieres is introduced by Warner Brothers of Bridgeport, Conn. Al Capone is released from Alcatraz.

And... Mamma Scrubbie is born.

Yep - today is Mamma Scrub's burfday! 70 today! And, if ya dont mind me sayin, is still smokin' hot.

See? There she is. Gawd love'er.

Born and raised in India till she was 12. Moved to the UK. Schooled in a convent where they had to walk by the morgue everyday. Got jiggy with this fella from the boys school across the street. Married the fella from the boys school across the street. Packed up a suitcase, $35.oo and her new beau and hopped on board a ship. Traversed the ocean to land in Canada. Set up house. Lived life. Had Scrubbie as her first born and thought "this is easy", so had Scrub's younger brother, Beelzebub, and called it quits to childbirth. La de da... and here we are today. September 12th. 70 years later and we are singin' Happy Burfday to the 'ol gal.

Ma and me - we're quite alike. Both get the giggles when Tide laundry detergent goes on sale. Both cant stand that little bastard that works at the local grocery trading post (he's just sooo rude). Both LOVE, and I mean seriously LOVE, a good nosh-up feast filled with sweet and savoury goodies all around. Ya. Scrub is most definately his mother's son.

Anyway kids - just wanted to share this special day with ya'll.

Happy Burfday Mamma! Love ya oodles. See ya later today!

Mwah!

9/11

2009-09-11T08:46:00.000-04:00

For our pals in the Red, White and Blue...

Remembering 9/11

Help or Hurt?

2009-09-11T08:16:00.004-04:00

It's a crapshoot.

Morning Kids. Yer old pal Scrubbie here... cuppa tea in hand, clean undershorts on, but still bleary-eyed first thing in the mornin'.

So - after yesterday's post where Scrub showed the world how the youngling has crept up vertically to his dear mommy... And... having the Wife include Prozac tablets in her morning bowl of Froot Loops... Scrub thought he should throw up a pic of the Kid in earlier days.

See - Scrub's thinking is... "Look! See! The Kid... ain't THAT much different. Sure... little taller. Sure... doesn't use the soother anymore. Sure... Kitty isn't glued to his widdle tummy 24/7. But... SEE... there's our boy."

The Wife - she ain't seen this yet. Don't think she has seen the previous post either.

So... there are a couple of ways this'll go down.

1. The Wife - gonna give Scrub a hug and comment on how the Kid has grown up and how proud she is of the lad for making it this far. Then, she'll give Scrub those sexy, dreamy eyes and let him know that these past years have been simply wonderful and she's lookin forward to many more to come.

OR

2. The Wife - will go completely over the edge and Scrub'll be hiding in the basement, under the stairs.

Hopefully, the 'ol wireless interweb thingy signal beams down there ok or ya'll never hear from me again.

The Aftermath

2009-09-10T21:27:00.003-04:00

Lord Gawd Almighty - knew this was comin'.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol' pal Scrub here doin' the ABC's tonight.

Sooooo... let's get the nasty stuff outa the way right off the git-go, shall we?

Sure - to the left here, there's some pics of the kid doin the "first day of school" thang. And, Scrub could (and lets face it... probably should) do the rather typical Back-To-School bit on the 'ol blog. Ya know - "oh my baby is growing up" and "look at him...awwwwww" type of thing.

And... to be a good pappy... Scrub should also say somethin' to the effect of "We're so proud of you son! You're growing up so fast" blah blah blah.

BUT...

Scrub's not gonna do that. Not right now.

See... the nasty stuff, as previously mentioned, is more about the.... ummmmm... aftermath that Scrub's gotta deal with.

Yes - aftermath.

The Kid - all gloating and stuff.

The Wife - none too pleased. Nope - not one little bit. (not quite as upset though, as when hearing stories of other women who go into labour and give birth in a matter of hours, then moments later go skipping home as though nothing had happened. Not after her 3 days of screaming agony when the Kid was born. Bitches.) Whoops - that was a tangent.

The aftermath is a result of one of them thar pics on that magnificent display of photographs taken just days ago. Can you guess which one? Go on - give it a whirl.

Yep - you guessed it. It's that top one there. See? Top left. See? The one with the kid lookin all goofy. And the Wife. The one where THE KID IS TOWERING OVER HIS MOTHER.

The Kid... was in diapers only yesterday. The Kid... was all "mommy!" only yesterday. The Kid... was all baby chubby and baby smell... only yesterday.

The Kid... is not supposed to be towering over his mother. And, The Kid... is not supposed to be talkin' with a deep voice. And, The Kid... not supposed to be heading off to his Senior and final year of elementary school.

Nope - not one little bit.

So... as you can see kids... Scrub has aftermath to deal with. When the Wife saw that pic... she snapped.

By the way... Scrub will only be able to blog once a week from now on. The rest of the time... he'll be vistin' the Wife in the looney-bucket home.

18 Years.

2009-09-07T08:15:00.005-04:00

September 7th, 1991

Scrubbie & The Wife are hitched.

Heydee-ho Scrubs & Scrubettes! It's yer old pal Scrubbie here on a glorious day.

Golly gee... 18 years. Seriously. 18! And, that's just how long Scrub and the Wife have been hitched. We've been playmates for some 23 years.

So... today is our Annie.

Scrub might have mentioned this one or twice before... but, just in case some of ya'll are poppin' by for the first time... I'll just mention it again... The Wife - she 'da bomb.

There just ain't anyone else for Scrub. She's it.

Excuse me for a second here kids... Be right back.

Sweetheart... Nothin' makes me happier than being able to tell the world that I
am in love with you. Today... even more than yesterday. Happy
Anniversary darlin'. Scrub loves ya. Mwah!

For you readers, followers and lurkers - thanks for yer indulgance.

Happy Anniversary Sweetheart!

Always & forever... I Love You

Handmade Films Presents...

2009-09-04T22:46:00.006-04:00

Always Look On The Bright Side of Life.

Howdy kiddy-winks. Yer old pal Scrubbie here...

I dont know the date. It was such a long time ago. But - sometime between when dinosaurs roamed the earth and present day, Scrub was living with Mamma Scrub and Pappa Scrub when he was but a Scrubling.

See... back in them days, we here in the Great White would light the tallow candles and sit 'round gawking at each other, huddling together to keep warm 10 months of the year. Then... one day... Pappa Scrub brought home this magic box. This glorious magic box.

"What is that!?" Scrub and his baby bro squealed.

"Why... children... this is a Video Cassette Player" Pappa says.

"What does it do Pappa?" the children queried.

"Watch this..." Pappa says.

And... there before us... wonderful moving pictures! We were gobsmacked. Absoultely, positively gobsmacked.

And, I recall the very first flick that went into that magic box. OHHHH - I remember.

I remember laughing my widdle bum off. I mean SERIOUSLY laughing.

And - I can tell you... that first flick in the magic box spawned a lifetime passion.

Yes, my children, it was... LIFE OF BRIAN. Monty Python's LIFE OF BRIAN.

Now... I can just imagine all you x-Chromosones out there rolling your eyes right about now. And, all you Y-chromes are giggling quietly to yourselves. I know, I know... for the most part, it does seem that Python tends to appeal to those with wibbly-wobblies. I did say "for the most part" - I know there are a few gals out there who get a good chuckle out of it as well. I don't know any though.

So - Scrub is sittin here. Right now. And what is playing before him on the tube? YES! Life of Brian. In full glorious technicolor and rich booming sound. To his left - sits the Kid and punk pal Bobby.

The Wife and the Lunatic Dog - nope... not interested.

So - at 11:09pm on a Friday nite... Pappa Scrub... should you be readin this... just wanna say... Thanks. Life of Scrubbie wouldn't be the same if it wasn't for that glorious day when you brought home that magic box. It's been 40 years of laughter. Pure stupidity... but stupidity inspiring laughter.

Now - time to grab myself a bag of wolf nipple chips and enjoy the rest of the show.

Weekend Wrap Up

2009-08-30T22:58:00.004-04:00

'Ello m'darlin's... It's yer old pal Scrubbie here.

So - it's the weekend wrap. No particular topic tonight kids. Just you and me hangin out.

Oh - maybe some speed topics. That's always fun, right? Ok ... here we go.

BIG BROTHER

Oh yes! The wife and me get the giggles watchin' those folks. It's the ultimate of bad TV, we know. But - we can't help it. It's reality TV and we just think reality TV is da bomb.

LUNATIC DOG

Needs a hair cut. $50. Yikes.

WEATHER

Dang... it's chilly out there in the Great White tonight.

THE KID AND SCHOOL

The countdown is on. Next week. He goes back next week. HE GOES BACK NEXT WEEK! Wooooohoooooooo!

THE WIFE

Smokin hot and love her to bits. 'Nuff said.

THE WIFE AND SCHOOL

Yep - the 'ol girl is still goin strong. Hittin the books this week - but has next week off. She's lookin forward to it.

BING AND BONG

Ya - they're still around. In fact, the kid is crashing at Bing and Bong's place tonight. Yep - it's quiet round here tonight.

WEBCAM

Ya - got one

BLACK LICORICE

Not a fan.

CHILI CON CARNE

Had it for dinner. Dang - was uber tasty.

Now and then, enjoy sweetening up the chili a little bit. Trick learned from MammaLou - Scrub's in-law ma. This time, sweetened with apple and a wee tich of brown sugar. Deelish.

ON THE TUBE RIGHT NOW

The Mummy Returns. Great fantasy flick. Wife cuddled up in a blankie. Lunatic Dog cuddled up in mommy.

IN MY MUG

Tea. Sweetener and Milk. One each.

So - there ya go. The speed post tonight.

And, on the scrapbookin' front - couple other layouts whipped up. More of Hurricane's punks. Why? No reason - just happen to have the pics handy. Hurricane and me took the boys to catch their train home. They start school tomorrow, Monday. The Kid is already missing Big D - they kinda became good buds this summer. Sure - they have hung out in the past - but this summer they just seemed to click. It was good times.

$25 bucks for an hour with a tramp.

2009-08-29T21:27:00.005-04:00

Large Double Double please. And, a chair.

Evening boys & girls. Yer old pal Scrub here at the laptop on a Saturday night.

Sure, the wife and I could be out wing-dinging it... but, here in Scrub's part of the Great White - Summer has called it quits for the year. I mean.. Geez Louise.. it's frackin' cold out.

So... our son, the kid, goes trampin' once a week. Huh? Oh - good heavens. Ya'll are filthy. No No - that THAT kinda trampin'. (Although some of these 13 and 14 yr old skanky girls that are creepin' into our lives "might" qualify...)

No - the wife and me signed the kid up in this gymnastics class thingy. Well - not full gymnastics. Ya gotta remember - our kid is the "one-handed wonder". So... that makes stuff like swingin' on the uneven bars... ummm... kinda challenging. But - when it comes to the trampoline... no problem.

This summer, the kid started doin' these whackball flips and stuff on the home version of a trampoline... so the wife and me thought it might be a good idea to throw the child into some kinda structured class and learn somethin'. Ya know - safe stuff. Know what I mean?

Anyway - every week for the past few, we have been truckin on down to a nearby burb - well, not quite nearby - in fact, with all 3 of us flappin' our arms wildly out the windows of the go-kart for maximum speed - it's still a good 45 minutes away. But - it's the only burb anywheres close to the Scrub Shack that offers up some semi-pro coaching for younglings who wanna bounce on a trampoline.

Oh... first.... ya'll recall Scrub sharing with you the Great White's fav watering hole... Tim Hortons, right? We red & whites affectionaly call it simply "Timmies". We have one on every corner. Seriously. I some places, you can grab yer large double double coffee, stand outside, look down the street and see the sign for the next one. No kidding.

Anyway - every week when we go trampin'... ( oh, now you have got me thinkin dirty thoughts sayin that. Trampin'. Sheesh.) So, every week when we go trampin' - we have to pass... well... oodles of Timmies restaurants. Simply oodles of them.

But - there's one in particular. Close to the trampin' place. This one Timmies... every week... there's a group of folk that I suppose have formed their own little club of sorts. It's "their" meeting spot. It's their place to hang. It's their place to kick back and share a giggle or two with their chums. Bully for them.

However - you'd think they'd go for somethin a little more comfy instead of just whippin out the lawn chairs and setting up shop in the parking lot, wouldn't ya? Gawd love'em.

For all you readin' from places other than the Great White - we Canucks... this is what we do. Yep - we're a laid back bunch, with a thang for Timmies coffee, and we're ready to git a coffee clutch set up whereever and whenever.

It's been a couple hours since my last injection of caffeine... think I'm due.

I Love Thursdays. So Fresh and Clean.

2009-08-27T11:11:00.013-04:00

Yo! Yo! Oh - and that doesn't refer to the kewl toy that goes up and down a string.

Hey kids - Scrub at the keyboard. Whassup?

No - it's not the toy. It IS, apparently, the preferred method of greeting one's parents however.

Yes - we'll be putting a stop to that in short order. Sheesh.

So - ya'll remember that cute little fart that was The Kid?

Awwww - look at him!

Oh - don't be jealous. Chalk it up to remarkable DNA and a good shot of tequila. (And a smokin hot woman who is quite simply mommy-licious).

Anyway - that was last years Back-To-School shopping adventure.

The Kid - well, as regular Scrub's will know... things have changed a wee bit over the past summer. The kid - ummmm... grown up a little.

This year's bank-account-drain... whoops, I mean Back-To-School shopping, took place yesterday.

Well - some of it did.

Scrub's still gotta hit the local trading post and swap some skins, and his right arm, for some of the basics still. Ya know - socks, underwear... that kinda stuff.

Apparently the local family and childrens services office will throw both Scrub and The Wife in jail and place the Kid with some other poor sap if the wee fella should land in hospital and they cut off his jeans with scissors and find a pair of gotchies that are in less than pristine condition.

According to the wife anyway.

Reminds me... it's Thursday.

Time to turn mine inside out.

65 Front Street West

2009-08-26T08:42:00.004-04:00

Area code 416? Are you kidding me?

Well howdy Scrublings. Yer old pal Scrub here this mornin'.

So - the kid and I hopped in the go-kart yesterday to pick up our dear friend Hurricane's offspring yesterday after a short trip back to the land of the French here in the Great White.

Took a little trip to the big smoke - Toronto. Found a parking spot (surprise, surprise) and took the kid for a tour of Union Station and the surrounding area.

We were there late afternoon - which means that 1.5 million people were bustling around and making their way through the station - connecting on trains, transit and just general bustle through the downtown core of Canada's humungousest city.

The eyes - sparkly and glowing. The blood - pumping. The imagination - firing.

So, I asked the kid - "could you live here?"

"Oh ya!" he says... "I'm home".

Argh.

The wife and me - nah, we don't have a problem with the kid picking up and plunking down somewhere's other than next door to the Scrub Shack at some point in his life. But - the point here is... it has become even more apparent that despite the fact that 3 and a half minutes of fun some 13 years ago and a serious investment of time and money since... the kid is growin' up and will, in fact, at some point, regardless how much we balk, will... *gulp... no longer be under our control.

(there's that control issue again. damn'd penis.)

Ugh. Grunt. Ugh.

2009-08-22T09:48:00.003-04:00

Lord Gawd Almighty - it's great havin' a penis.

Howdy Kids. Yer ol pal Scrub here on the Toshiba this morn.

Ya know... the whole premise of this blog thingy is to give ya'll a wee peek into the life of Scrubbie. I give ya all the fam. Give ya the friends. Give ya the weirdos. Give it all.

And, Scrub also likes to give it to ya'll from a guy's perspective. Scrub's perspective.

Now... there's no gettin' around it. There IS a distinct difference between Scrubs and Scrubettes. We think differently. And, that's ok.

In fact, in some ways, this little corner of the web thing is kinda a public service... providing some insight into the Y chromosone.

See - we boys are simple folk at heart. We're easy to deal with. We're easy to get along with.

Give us a beer - we're happy. MMM... beer.

Give us meat - we're happy. Specially if we kill it first.

Give us a tree to whiz upon - we're happy. It's how we mark our territory.

Give us puurty things to look at - we're horny. Whoops - I mean happy.

See. Simple. Right?

But... give us toys. And we're REALLY happy. I mean... goosebumps, hair standing up, nipple exploding kinda happy.

Toys. Love toys.

Electronic toys. Gizmos. Things we can shoot. Cars, Trucks - well, anything with an engine really.

It all comes down to control when it comes to toys. We, with winkies, like to control and dominate things. Have total and complete power to weild. You can see it. Give us a toy and our chests burst forth. A grin creeps over our face. The veins in our forearms bulge with glee. And, we should not be spoken to at that time. We are fully engaged in our toy.

Let's go for a bit of a history lesson, shall we?

Many years ago. I mean MANY years ago... we boys were stompin' around and at some point, we discovered somethin. We discovered somethin really kewl. We discovered somethin that gave us the ultimate power. It was... fire.

We grunted. We giggled. We killed each other for it. Oh ya baby - those were the days. Pure, unbridled testosterone.

We had fire.

We used it. We flaunted it. We controlled it. We were happy.

Sure - over the years - those with willies have had to adapt and change. We learned to tame some urges. We learned to eat with a fork. We learned about manscaping.

But - if any of you think that we boys, underneath the deodorant and jockey shorts, shaved chins and designer colognes, are not still neanderthals... think again.

Oh - c'mon. It's true.

Huh? Proof you say? Ok - well... lets turn our attention back to fire then.

We boys STILL, to this day, so many thousands of years later, STILL get stiffies when it comes to controlling fire.

Alright - well... just take a look at this if you still don't believe me.

There. Told ya.

Look at the little sh*t there - tauntin' me.

Now... Scrub's off to get his shotgun, get in his 4x4, and to take out his dear Bro-In-Law and steal his fire.

Ugh.

Tornado Watch. No - Not Hurricane's sister. The real thing.

2009-08-20T22:20:00.002-04:00

Uhhhh - honey.... did you close the windows?

Hey kids - Yer old pal Scrub here. And, as the kid often says... "Whassup G?"

Of course, being over 40 - I dont know who or what the hell G is.

So - look at 'ol blue eyes there. That's the nephew Whoagun. He's my incredibly buff, but slightly warped bro-in-law JR's wee fella. He and his wifeypoo Dutchie - they make a nice lookin kid eh?

So - here in Scrub's part of the Great White was treated to some fancy dancy weather tonight. Tornado warnings and all. Seriously. Those poor sardines in the big city of Toronto got whalloped though. Sounds like it was kinda nasty there. Here's hopin they're all ok.

Hmmm? What's that? The Wife? Oh - she's here. Sittin in the big marshmallow chair with one of them porta-tables, her scrappy cuttin machine and oodles of paper - puttin scrappin' kits together.

The kid? Yep - here too. Well... down in the engine room talkin' to the 'puter down there. At least, I hope he's talkin to the puter otherwise that means he's having extensive conversations with himself. That... is somewhat troubling.

Oh - and that smell... ya, that's the skunks outside. Peeuuuuu!

Actually, ya know... I really don't have much to say tonight.

So..... I guess that's it.

Done.

Whaaa! Whaaa! Whaaa!

2009-08-19T08:03:00.003-04:00

Go Joe!

Morning kids. Scrubbie, all bleary-eyed this morning, hammerin' the keyboard this A.M.

So - ya... the kid and me - went to see G.I.Joe last night.

All in all - not bad. Worth goin on cheap Tuesday.

Most definately a guy flick. The movie - pretty much from beginning to end - was one big explosion. TeeHee. It was mucho fun.

I am not entirely sure the 4 year old sitting three chairs down from me, with her 2 year old baby brother, got as much out of it as the kid and I did.

Specially through the crying. That lasted the entire movie.

A Summer Saturday and a Happy Birthday.

2009-08-16T17:13:00.008-04:00

"Pass me one of them girlie drinks."

Hey kids - a somewhat dehydrated, slightly hungover, and terribly sweaty Scrubbie here. How ya'll doin?

Oh boys and girls - Scrub had one of them thar Saturday's yesterday.

See... our dear friend Hurricane... ya'll remember her, right? Nightmare driver. Dynamite under her driveway. Plane crashes in her yard. Yep - her. So - Hurricane, much like the rest of us, celebrates yearly, the day of her birth. In this particular case, it was a half century ago. (Shhhh - keep that to yerself though. Gawd only knows what she'll do to me if she finds out I threw it out there on the information super roadway - or whatever the hell it's called).

Well... truth be told, her birthday ain't till September. Virgo, in case you are wonderin. Go ahead - read all about Virgo's. Everything you read - she's the exact opposite. But - that's another post.

But - as her two boys, D and H2 are here for the summer, and returning to the land of the French in a couple weeks... Hurricane's sis - Tornado - decided to throw a partay for Hurricane yesterday so that the boys could take part. Nice, eh?

So - off to Tornado's place for a Q and some swimmin' in the cement pond. Oh - and of course, there were cocktails flowin freely. Now... Scrub don't normally partake in cocktails too much. Oh sure - the odd cool refreshing beverage at home now and then, but in moderation. However... when one is in the company of not only Hurricane... but her sister Tornado as well... you can understand why a little social lubrication is not an entirely bad thing.

Still not convinced this is enough to inbibe to get the liver workin? Well - hang on to yer knickers... Hurricane and Tornado... they have a little baby brother as well. Whom... we shall henceforth call Sunami.

Convinced now?

Anyway - it was good times all around. Hurricane was livin large. The brats were all enjoyin high times. Tornado's eldest, the Ottawa Senators hockey superstar, was home. The X-Box was runnin' hot with first person shooters. Yep - good times.

Oh - and the Q. Oh, the Q. Tornado's hubby... whose name is... (go ahead... guess!)... Explosion. *grin. So, Tornado's hubby, Explosion, is just a whiz bang on the grill. So - he toasted up some meat. The women folk prepped up some greens and spuds. And, we all chowed down. Deelish.

And, Scrub got to enjoy some spikey lemonade all day. MMMMMMM. Allow me to reiterate: MMMMMMMM. Nothin like lemonade mixed up with giggle juice to make a hot and muggy day just slide on by.

Wanna see a pic?

Need help?

There, on the left - Hurricane, D and H2.

On the right... top left: brats. Top right: H2. Middle - Hurricane with a libation. Middle left - hockey superstar. Middle right: Hurricane's pals. Bottom left - Sunami, the baby brother. Bottom right - Tornado.

Motley crew, eh?

Whoops - Scrubs gotta go. Gots some rice cookin up on the hotbox. Makin' fancy food tonight. Fajita's.

Hmmm? What's that? Why Fajita's? Well... it's such a nice compliment to Tequila. That's why.

Duh.

Almost Heaven... West Virginia

2009-08-15T00:56:00.003-04:00

Scrubbie's still up - and it's after midnight.

Hey kids. Scrub here early early on a Saturday.

So I'm thinkin that yesterday's adventure has messed up Scrub's normal sleepin/wakin schedule. Argh. So - Scrub's got the tube on and just killin some time.

Mamma Scrub and Pappy Scrub have made their way on down to the U S of A - specifically to West Virginia... Almost Heaven.

Why?

Well - ya'll recall Scrub's cuzin Dolphin has Virginny blood pulsing through his veins? That side of the family... tractor throwing contests. Eatin' nasty bits. Stuff like that? Yep - well, it's the fam reunion time down there.

So - it's gonna be a hang out day here at the Scrub Shack.

And, to kill time - whipped up another Soccer layout featurin'... the Kid. Gawd love 'im.

Stay groovy kids.

A Glass of Water

2009-08-14T11:15:00.004-04:00

Take two and call me in the morning.

A rather exhausted Scrubbie here at the QWERTY this morning kids. How ya'll doin?

Exhausted from yet another day at the Great White playground Canada's Wonderland. Sheesh! This time - went along with Hurricane and her two boys, D and H2. You remember Hurricane, right? No insurance company would dare touch her? Yep - that's the one. Well - the kid, D and H2 just had buckets of fun. Got a few pics. Not on here yet. I am sure sometime soon. Ya'll know me and Digi-scrappin', right? Pic today, layout - well... layout 'sometime' in the future.

No - no Wonderland pics today.

Instead... Scrub just needs to relax. Huh? Oh - "why" you ask? Well - lets not forget that Scrub's bones have seen a good number of years on the planet. And, ya'll know what it's like when ya own a go-kart. If the warranty expires on June the 12th... on June 13th, the muffler falls off, the tranny blows, rust that was not there previously magically pops it's way forward, and that snotty-nosed brat that lives three doors down has an insatiable urge to see how many marshmallows he can stuff down your fuel tank port.

And, while we're not forgetting that Scrub's bones have seen one or two thousand KM's (miles for you imperial types) (and by imperial - I refer, of course, to the other system of measurement. Not implying that you are guys or gals dressed in white plastic, carrying laser guns and referred to lovingly as StormTroopers by your family and friends that are also ultra-geeky Star Wars fans. Clear? Good.)

Where was I?

Oh ya - bones... thousands of KM's... exhausted... right. So - remembering the bones. And, also remembering that Scrub went to Canada's Wonderland yesterday. And, while remembering these... also taking into account that Scrub was along for the ride with the kid, D and H2 - all young testosterones that have metabolisms like small nuclear facilities. Gettin' the picture?

All I can say is that quite late last evening. Oh... say 3:10am... Scrubbie, quite carefully, got on his knees and thanked the almighty Scrub in the sky for giving mankind, as a whole, the wisdom and knowledge to invent Tylenol 3's stuffed to the brim with codeine. And, Peanut Butter. Thanked Him for peanut butter. Not that Tylenol 3's have peanut butter in them.

That's just weird.

The Things You Find on Facebook

2009-08-10T19:33:00.003-04:00

Oh the humanity!

Scrubs, Scrubettes... it's a rather immasculated Scrubbie here bangin' on the laptop tonight.

First - I gotta tell ya. As ya'll may know - the wife and me gots ourselves a youngin'. He's 12. We call him The Kid. Sure, we call him other things as well. In fact, some of those things I cant even type here on the interweb in case the space cops come and spank me.

And, the Kid - for the most part - has been a "fly under the radar" kinda kid. Ya know - likes hangin at home with the Wife and Scrub. Plays on the computer. Video games. Blah blah blah. Typical kid.

Well - just a couple of weeks ago - at the end of school and as the summer kicks off - some kinda switch went off.

All of a sudden - whoosh! The social butterfly in him comes out. And - the fairer sex... ummm... well.... in a word.... Kaboom. Ya - that's a good word. Kaboom.

So - the kid gets out into the world and has scored up a few new friends that are... ummmm.... girls.

Just a few years ago - round here in the Great White - there came along this invention that allows for two way instant communication. Huh? No - No - not MSN. Hmmm? Nope - not Skype. It's this thing called the telephone. And, believe it or not - Scrub gots one.

Fantastic thing.

Anyway - until a couple of weeks ago - the telephone at our place was pretty quiet. The odd ring or two. usually Mamma Scrub or the out-laws callin' to check on the wife and me. Simple regular stuff, ya know?

Well... like I said... until a couple of weeks ago - the telephone at our place was pretty quiet. Then... (and forgive me for using this word twice in the same post)... Kaboom. I mean - seriously. The damnd thing never stops.

And, when the wife and me pick up the telephone to greet the caller - invariably on the other end of the horn is some giggling twinkette. "Ummmm - hello..... is The Kid there?"

Ohmygawd - all hours - all the time. The wife and me put the kybosh on the calls after 10pm pretty quick. After all - we're old. We go to sleep at 8pm. Then get up to pee 15 hundred times. But - that's another post.

So... Immasculated. I did mention that, right? Maybe that's not the right word. Maybe it is.

Anyway - the kid... in one of his adventures over to his new twinkette friends' place... well.... ummm... was... ummm....well... the pic says it all.

All he said was "they attacked me".

Oh... and the answer is YES. Found these on Facebook.

Anybody got PayPal?

2009-08-10T12:48:00.003-04:00

"Hello Mrs. Scrubbie, Mr. Scrubbie. How are you both today? My, Mrs. Scrubbie... you look nice today!"

Sup kids? Yer old pal Scrub at the keyboard.

So - Eddy Haskell was at the Scrub Shack this weekend.

That's him there. With the kid.

You can see it, can't you? The Devil in his eyes.

Nah - seriously - he's a good kid.

With Eddy Haskell in the house, there was, of course, politeness all around.

When in the presence of the parents.

But, when the fellas were downstairs in the engine room - Scrub could easily hear the conversations going on. Ahhhh, yes.... teen boys.

However - all in all... good times all around.

And, as you have surmised, Scrub and the fam survived nasty summer storm weather. Gotta tell ya though - it was a doozie 'round these parts last night. All day yesterday, as a matter of fact.

Scrub was takin Eddy Haskell home yesterday via the go-kart. Eddy Haskell lives with Scrub-pals, The Tattoo People out in the middle of nowhere. And, whilst the kid, Scrub and Eddy Haskell were travellin' - the weather rolled in. OOO EEEE - there was a point where Scrub was thinkin "OK - time to pull over". But - made it through.

Anyhoo - today. Yes, today. See - today is somethin' special.

Glad you asked. Today - Scrub is takin' Mamma Scrubbie out this aft. No, no - not one of them Mother & Son dates. No, nothin like that.

See - both Scrub and Mamma Scrub are diabetic folk.

This is not some kind of Lord of the Rings new world where we both are 3 feet tall and spin silk out of cow dung. No. We both have internal organs -specifically - the pancreas - that are on vacation.

And, today is one of them days where we diabetic folk get to go and see professionals who will suck the blood out of us (we call 'em vampires) and then make us sit in chairs while they tell us all about the food we can eat and what we cant eat. Then - using pretty pictures and swell diagrams - they'll explain in disgustingly icky detail what happens to the grub we shovel down our gullets and what our bodies do as a result. With, of course, a diabetic spin to it.

So - we're off to do that 'round 4pm. Eastern Standard Time... in case you were wonderin'.

Hmmm? What's that you ask? Oh - why are both Mamma Scrub and Scrub himself going?

Simple really. See... Mamma Scrub.... she's a naughty diabetic.

We're "supposed" to do the vampire thing and prick our fingers all regular like to see where out glucose levels are. Mamma Scrubbie.... nah.

We're "supposed" to be somewhat careful about what passes our lips on the way down to the tummy. Chocolate as a main course... not allowed. Mamma Scrubbie... nah.

And, we're "supposed" to attend little diabetic events - just such as the clinic today - so that we are well informed Scrubs and Scrubettes. Ya know - keep ourselves in check and make sure we don't burden the health care system too much and all. Mamma Scrubbie... nah.

So - when Scrub found out that Mamma Scrubbie was "supposed" to go to her little diabetic event today - Scrub called Mamma Scrub's doc and said "Hey Doc - ya know Mamma Scrubbie? Ya - well, you told her to go to her little diabetic event. And, you know Mamma Scrubbie just like I know Mamma Scrubbie. So - I am thinkin that maybe I should go WITH Mamma Scrubbie. Just to make sure she doesn't get "lost" on the way."

Mamma Scrubbie's doc... couldn't have agreed more.

"Get yer knickers on Ma. Scrubbie's comin' for ya!"

And, since this secret is now out... and Scrub has pretty much guaranteed himself being stricken from the will... PayPal donations are graciously accepted.

Thank-you very much.

One of many Soccer layouts

2009-08-09T20:45:00.002-04:00

Congratulations Junior! We're proud of you!

Hey kids - Yer ol pal Scrub here.

Yep - they kid closed out the Soccer season this year with a few great games in the quarter-finals. Sadly - they didn't make it past the quarters - but they did a helluva job.

Oh - here in Scrub's part of the Great White... we're under some pretty severe weather warnings - tornado, hail, rain, wind - the whole kit'n'kaboodle. So... just in case this is Scrub's last post ever... it's been buckets of fun.

Love ya all.

Joseph Schneider Haus

2009-08-07T10:27:00.006-04:00

"Dad... I wouldn't mind living like that for a couple of hours - just for fun. But I wouldn't want to live like that forever. No video games."

Howdy boys & girls - yer old pal Scrubbie here.

So - ya'll recall t'other day, the wife and Scrub packed up the kid and his punk pal, (who, by the way is also Hurricane's eldest) and we all went out for an afternoon adventure.

Well - here's a couple 'a pics from that day.

Ya know... as an old fart, Scrub'd like to think that takin a little time to drag the brats to somethin like this would offer up a different perspective on things. Give them insight. Teach them somethin new. They'd walk away with a deep appreciation for all they have today - all them modern conveniences and luxuries. Then, later at home, they'd come to their parents and say things like "Good morning Mother. After I am done my chores this morning, may I help father outside?" or "Father - I was thinking that I am very grateful for everything you and mother do for me. Gosh darn it - I am a lucky boy."

Huh? What's that? Why... yes, I do smoke crack. Why do you ask?

Get Ready. You Won't Believe Your Eyes.

2009-08-05T08:08:00.007-04:00

We don't go looking. Honestly.

Greetings Scrubs. Yer good friend Scrubbie here sucking up bandwidth on the 'ol interweb.

See... the thing is... it's not like we go looking for it. By "it" - I mean freaky people. As a whole. We don't go looking for them.

They are just there.

There's been a few in Scrub's life.

The Bro-In-Law, JR - ya'll remember him, right? Dashingly good looking, golf fiend, daddy and hubby, medicated. Yep - him. JR - he pointed out, just the other day, that there does seem to be a preponderance of peeps that pop up like gophers every now and then around Scrub.

Examples can be found in - oh... Naked Guy at the gym. Who, as you recall, likes to be all free-willy when asking about Thanksgiving dinners and weekend plans with total strangers. And then there is Duct Tape Trunk Guy - oh, Scrub doesn't like that Duct Tape Trunk Guy. And what about Creepy Photo Guy with the telephoto lens at the beach just last weekend? They're out there. Ya just gotta open yer eyes. They're out there.

Well - brace yourselves kids. Allow me to introduce you to BBB.

See - The wife and me took the kid and Hurricane's eldest D out t'other day for an afternoon adventure.

To kick things off - we grabbed ourselves some sammies (or sandwiches) (or sang-widges if you are our good friend Hurricane) (who also cant say the word ambulance - it comes out "ambleeance") (which - by the way - is hysterical) (even more hysterical if you've been dippin into the Crown Royal).

So - we grabbed our sammies and fired up the go-kart and took off to a local park. Beautiful park. Right in the heart of the city. Love it there.

And, we plunked ourselves down to enjoy our sammies. In front of us there - in the field - was a group of fellas enjoyin an afternoon Cricket match. So far so good. Loving fam, sammies, diet Coke, Cricket, sunshine, warm beautiful day, green grass - yep - so far so good.

So - while we're enjoyin our sammies - the Cricket match hits the half way mark and the fellas step off to enjoy a bit of down time.

Then... BBB.

BBB - we see him in the distance.

The wife - first to notice. "What is THAT" she says.

Scrub turns - "What the hell?" Scrub says.

The kid and D - equally gobsmacked.

I think it's great - gettin out to enjoy the nice weather.

After all - here in the Great White - there are a whole buncha months where we are locked up tight in our igloos for fear of turnin into Canuck-sicles in the freezing cold.

But...

C'mon.

Seriously?

Just out there - throwing a baseball from one side of the field to t'other.

Then running after it. Kinda like we do with the lunatic dog.

But - WITH THE LUNATIC DOG.

Yes kids. BBB.

Oh - and BBB - short for Burgundy Boxer Briefs.

You probably figured that out by now.

Now - go and enjoy your coffee.

"Why, Scrubbie? Why?"

2009-08-04T08:56:00.010-04:00

There's just no two ways about it. Boys - they are predictable, consistent, and damn'd right funny.

Howdy Scrublings - yer ol pal Scrub here on a fine Tuesday morning.

Boys. Gawd love 'em. Scrub's glad he had a boy. Sure - girls are fine. Lovely little creatures. Until they hit ... oh.... about age 8. But - ya see... bein' a fella... I understand fellas. I get 'em. Nothin's a surprise. And,

frankly - Scrub likes it that way.

Take, for example, the modern toilet and all that goes with it. Boys - well... they'll see the humour in - well, in - in everything. Thomas Crapper. One of the persons who may have invented the good ol flush toilet. Crapper. I mean - c'mon... if that don't give ya a chuckle.

There's also somethin about the freedom of it all. Ya know - bein able to just whip it out and make use of a tree. Probably so that our forefathers - when gruntin' and huntin' was pretty much the order of the day 24/7 - could easily let'ter rip and get back to gruntin' and huntin' quick.

And, despite the blech-ness of it all - ya know... toilet stuff... human waste... eeewwww.... we done a darn'd good job of makin the experience as good as it can be.

Fancy schmancy facilities. Raised potty seats to make goin' easy. Heck - I hear that even some folk have rooms INSIDE their igloos and shacks where they can make pee-pee!

One of them thar modern conveniences can be seen as a roll of paper. Bathroom tissue. Bum wad. Turlet paper. Whatever you like to call it - it's the same. Variations in quality and such. For example - if Scrub is unrestrained in his frugal ways - he comes home with a perfectly good product. Does the job. After all... look what yer using it for!

But, if the wife threatens Scrub with... ummm... lets say his life.... then he comes home with somethin more akin to smooth silk that has been handspun by magical elves who can only be found in the far reaches of the Himalayan mountains.

Anyway - where was I? Oh ya - boys. So... when it comes to topics such as the bathroom, washroom, Loo, privy, john, outhouse - whatever... there is always high interest.

And, the kid and his punk pals are no different.

Yesterday, for example, the wife and Scrub took the kid and Hurricane's eldest D out for a wee soujourn. A little backstory:

The wife - well, her fam has roots goin back to Pennsylvania Dutch Mennonites. Seriously. As it turns out - if one of her great great great (and so forth) grandpappies didn't think to himself: "Hmmm... lets try this Lutheran religion thing... see what it's all about" - then the wife would be wearin' her bonnett and a lovely wee frock and apron and warshin' up Scrub's workin-in-the-fields clothes by hand rather than scrapbookin and eatin sushi on a Friday night.

And, right here in Scrub's hometown is where the wife's fam decided to settle down and call home a hundred years ago. So - there's evidence of that history all around. Honest - it's pretty kewl.

Ok - back to the sojourn yesterday. So - Scrub and the wife, the kid and D - all crammed in to the go-kart and we took off to visit some history. Went to Joseph Schneider Haus in Kitchener, Ontario. Go ahead - google it. I'll wait.

Oh goodie - you're back. So - there ya go. Joseph Schneider Haus. And while there - there was just a whackload of stuff that we got to see. Life back then. Yep - little different. Well - not so different really. Kitchen. Bedrooms. Places to wash up. Yard to play in. Oh - and a Loo.

And - as we had boys with us on the visit - the lav facilities were of high interest.

See - all makin' sense now.

What was of particular interest to our young, strappin testosterones was the fact that the human biological waste disposal facility was a two seater. No kiddin. Two holes to plunk yer butts over - side by side. "Why, Scrubbie..." they asked. "Why are there two holes to plunk yer butts over side by side? Why?"

Scrub told them that back in those days - it's all family.

And then - there was a basket 'tween the holes. Filled with corn cobs.

"Why, Scrubbie..." they asked. "Why is there a basket 'tween the holes filled with corn cobs? Why?"

"Why do you think" replied Scrubbie - in his best efforts to be a role model Scrub and allow the youngsters to self-discover through analytical processing.

"Cause they might want a snack?" suggested the youngsters.

"Nope" says Scrubbie. "Try again."

"To wipe - *gulp - their butts?" giggled the youngsters.

"Correct."

Yep - and that's the thought I'll leave ya with for today.

A Little Help Please

2009-08-03T10:25:00.002-04:00

It's mid morning in the Great White. And Scrub needs a little help.

Morning Boys & Girls. Scrub here again.

So, last evening, the kid, Hurricane's eldest, D and the kid's punk pal Bobby all crashed at the Scrub Shack.

Here, they are scarfing down a manly breakfast of sausage, eggs, toast, yogurt, orange juice - ya know.

The wife - upstairs. Dollin' herself up.

Here's the situation: Today is a holiday 'round here. Makes for a nice long weekend in the middle of the summer season. Nice eh?

So - in keeping with a holiday and long weekend... there are a host of things that could happen.

The wife - something heritage-ish. There's an Ice Cream Festival in a local burb. People dressed in old world clothing. Lots of demos and displays of life in the 30's. Vendors (of course). And, Ice Cream. Prepared in the old fashioned way. And flavoured not with the trappings and tastes of Y2K. But, rather, with hints of flora found here and there. Personally - sounds like a peachey idea.

The kid and his punk brat pals - ummmm... not so much. They are requesting an afternoon at the local fun park. When asked why they want to go there so much rather than spending some quality time with the folks - the response, from these three teenage, hormonal, voice cracky boys was a resounding: "Scrub - ummmm... Dandylion ice cream or girls swimming... let me think".

Please bow your head in prayer with me.

God - Your old pal Scrubbie here. God - give me the strength to deal with teenage boys and their mothers. Enough said. Thanks God. You 'da man.

Ok - Scrub's back.

Thanks folks. 'Preciate your thoughts and best wishes.

Smile and Say Cheese.

2009-08-03T07:49:00.008-04:00

Smile. You're on Candid Camera.

Whassup kids? Uncle Scrub at the keyboard here.

Gotta tell ya - oodles of fun. The beach. That's where we were.

The wife and me packed up the kid and Hurricane's two punks, D and H2, and made our way to a local swimmin' pond to enjoy a day of picnic'in and swimmin'. It was grand.

Now - bein a Canuck, as ya'll have come to learn - we red and whites talk about a select few things. Tim Horton's - their closest location and what to order. And, the weather.

So - we grabbed out Timmies and took full advantage of what seemed to be one of the few full out, sunshine blazin', not having to wear the woolie underthings, summer-type days goin' on 'round these parts of late.

Oh - boys and girls - Scrub doesn't mean to make ya jealous or nothin - but it was buckets of fun.

Scrub filled the picnic basket full of goodies. The wife gathered towels and sunscreen. The brats were well sugared and ready for a good time.

About D and H2: it is pretty much bred into our offspring that their primary mission in their young lives is to bug the hell out of each other. With constant pokes, jabs, drool (yes, drool) and more - their isn't a 5 min span where one isn't givin the other the business. These two - no different.

A note to parents: I often find a cattle prod an effective tool. You don't even need to use full voltage. They are kids after all. No - a couple of medium intensity shocks with the prod work wonders. Try it.

So - at the beach - good times all around.

But... there was this dude. Nice enough lookin. Sittin quiety by himself under a tree close to the wife and me. Had this camera with one of them thar lenses that was long enough to see the warts on a frogs arse a million miles away. Ya - one of them. Anyway... dude caught our eye. Well - specifically, the wife's eye.

Mother's instinct. Ya know what I mean.

So - dude was snappin a few pics. Then, would put his camera down. Beside him. Then snap a few more pics. Then, put his camera down beside him.

Harmless enough.

But - it was the WAY he was doin all this. Kinda sneaky like. Specially when other folk would saunter by his tree. Camera... kinda put down as if to hide it.

Then there was the fact that he didn't seem to be aiming his point and shoot across the pond to capture the wonderful foliage or whatever.

No - it seemed, from an onlookers point of view, that he was snappin pics of - well, I don't know.

I doubt it was the warts on a frog's arse a million miles away.

And, he was solo. No family or friends comin' up to splash water on him. Or giggle at the jiggle of some of the beach folk. Nope. Alone. Sole. One. Just him. With a camera. And a lens.

Add to all of this - he was just kind creepy lookin. Know what I mean?

Mostly though - the wife and her mother's intuition... just somethin not right there.

The wife - alerted Scrub. The protector. The provider. The MAN.

So - Scrub swallered the last bit of cookie he was enjoyin. Took a swig of his bottled water. Dusted off his hands for what was to follow. And, got up outa his chair.

Chest out. Shoulders back. Fists - clenched and ready to go.

I tell ya - the testosterone was pumpin. Could feel it! It was EXHILERATING.

This, my friends and readers, is what we boys LIVE for.

So, Scrub, now up outa his chair, begins to march. Aggressively. Purposefully. So that all those who see him or stand in his way know, without even a single word spoken, that this dude means business.

And, Scrub promptly finds the closest 16 year old beach attendant chickeyboo and says "that man is scaring us."

Grin.

Nah. Seriously - just got security and advised them of the deal. Creepy dude - gone in 5 mins.

So - the kidlings, the wife and me - we beached. we picnic'd. we played. we went home.

Yep - Scrub loves them summer days.

Less than 5 hours.

2009-07-31T09:16:00.008-04:00

4 hours and 44 minutes.

Howdy kids - yer old pal Scrub here at the keyboard.

It is a Friday morning! And, here in the Great White - it is also the lead up to a summertime long weekend. We all gots Monday off here - Civic Holiday long weekend. But, us Canucks all like to try and sneak in a couple extra hours here and there for long weekends. And Scrub ain't no different.

The 'ol Scrub timeclock is shuttin down 'round 2pm today (Eastern Standard Time, in case ya'll wanna grab a cocktail to celebrate with me). And, the long weekend will begin. Oh - dudes and dudettes... this is somethin that yer Uncle Scrubbie is lookin forward to.

The wife and me - thinking of checking out some tall ships this weekend. (I know... exciting eh? Control yourselves). There's also a "lighted kite" festival. (Again - control your hysteria) Hurricane and her two punks will likely be in the picture. No doubt the kid will drag along a couple of his punk pals here and there. Cocktails. Some tunes. Oh ya baby. Bring it on.

4 hours 31 minutes.

Hey - I promised ya a couple of pics.

Here they are.

Ya'll recall DUCT TAPE TRUNK GUY?

Ya - he's the knob that fancies motorsports speed in a parking lot filled with punk kids. Sure - there's points to be had in takin a few of them out. But - seriously...

So - here's DTTG's go-kart that I was mentioning.

If ya'll please direct your attention to pic 1. Notice the hood unlatched. But, in the interest of safety, DTTG has utilized one of Scrub's favouritist things - the bungee cord - to ensure the hood don't fly up into DTTG's field of vision while taking parking lots at high speed.

Now, if you'll glimpse your gaze on to pic #2. You can see here why DTTG has earned his monikor.

Again - the trunk (or boot for ya'll visitin from across the pond) - ajar - BUT, safely and securely held down by means of duct tape.

Sure - I have a Y chomosone and do appreciate duct tape. Seriously. I do. Love the stuff.

Use it all the time. (even love the smell of it. Guys - back me up here. )

The sound of it shhheppping off the roll as you tug. Takin yer teeth to one edge to get that rip. The joy of battling the sticky when you have a strip of the stuff more than 30 cm (or 12" for all the imperials in the room) long. Oh ya.

And the ultimate satisfaction of running yer paw along the tapes silvery, textured backside as you firmly press it to achieve full adhesion. Be right back. Gotta have a smoke and grab somethin to eat.

Ok - I'm back.

BUT - even with my sincere love of duct tape... ya'll gotta admit - this is a bit over the top.

Personally - I'd prefer to see DTTG cover the whole gokart in duct tape. Make a statement.

4 hours, 24 minutes.

Oh hey - our pals, the Tattoo people who live in the middle of nowhere (and are also the kid's punk pal Eddy Haskell's inked mamma and inked pappa) - it's their 10th wedding annie today. Happy Anniversary! We love ya! (Ink'd Mamma - I know what the 'ol boy has planned for ya! Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah!)

4 hours, 19 minutes.

Ink'd Mamma is gonna kick Scrub's arse when she sees him next. *grin

Nothing. Nothing. And more nothing. Seriously - nothing.

2009-07-26T16:18:00.003-04:00

It's wet. Really wet. I mean REALLY wet. And, stop thinkin naughty thoughts.

Hey kids - Scrubbie at the keyboard once again.

No - it's not a prelude to some porn entry. By wet, I mean that the rain has been bucketing down round Scrub's part of the country today. And, of course, Scrub was at the local trading post exchanging furs and skins for a potato and some fruit when it was gushing down. Gotta keep that scurvey at bay.

So - whilst exiting said trading post and pausing to wait for the sky to close up a little, Scrub took a moment to do a little people watchin' - as he frequently does. And, I wasn't disappointed. To my delight, chickey-boo was standing under the overhang to keep herself dry, as was the hoards of other skins and furs traders today. But, chickey-boo was waving down her gal pal, or progenitor - it was hard to tell. And, madame driver of the go-kart decided to stop traffic for a good couple of minutes while she BACKED HER GO KART RIGHT UP ONTO THE PEDESTRIAN AREA and DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE TRADING POST DOORS. I know! Seriously.

So - chickey-boo with her cartful, was giggling away and when the driver came to a complete stop, just inches from the door and a number of onlookers who were, to be frank, just AGOG by all of this, loaded up her trading post treasures and promptly ran into the go-kart, leaving her shopping buggy right there in the doorway. All of this without even so much as a "by your leave".

Ahhhhh. There's nothin Scrub loves more than a twit in the afternoon to bring a giggle to his sourpuss face.

Well - after that bit of entertainment, Scrub came home to the Scrub Shack where he is prepping up a nice little dinner of pasta with meat sauce and all the delish fixuns. Hurricane and her youngest punk, H2, are comin' for sup tonight, The eldest - Big D - well, he went back to frenchville last week. Apparently, the lad - a strapping 14 yrs of age - had to go break up with his girlfriend and hit a couple 'a parties. He made it just in time too. The choo-choo drivers all decided not to go to work the day after Big D got home. Othersie - it'd been a helluva walk.

The wife - poor thing - bustin her scrappy hump this weekend. As you recall, her and gal-pal the Joodster gots themselves a bit of business goin on and the wife is up to her scrappy armpits gettin stuff done. But - give the ol gal a couple of hours and she'll have everything needin' done - done.

Oh - the wife and me - little date the t'other night. Went to see the latest Harry Potter flick. Darn'd good. I'll give it two Scrubbie thumbs up. Then, last night, the kid went to crash at Bing and Bong's place. So, the wife and me did a little cuddle up in front of the tube to catch an 80's flick with Glenn Close and Jeff Bridges - Jagged Edge. Gawd I love the 80's. It's all about the hair, aint it.

And, 'tween it all, Scrub put mouse to mousepad and threw together another scrappy page.

Wanna see?

There ya go.

Oh - and the lunatic dog is dead. Well, not deceased. Just flopped. Here, in front of me. On the floor. Ya know how they get.

And, to be honest - Scrub could pretty much do the same.

Gawd, I love Sundays.

FOUR!

2009-07-21T10:22:00.016-04:00

"Please, oh please BLOG me!"

Morning kids. Yer old pal Scrubbie here.

Gotta tell ya - this whole interweb blogging thing - oodles of fun. And, the fam

all knows about it. Well - most of them do. Some of them dont. Which, if you have read some of Scrub's entries, is a good thing. I get to say what I want and still enjoy a good curry dinner now and then.

And, the fam - Gaw'd love 'em - like to plant blog seeds with Scrub. Sometimes they even do it on purpose.

Ya'll remember the Bro-In-Law, JR, right? Handsome, buff, slightly warped but happily medicated, and a magnet for naked-guy at the gym. Yep - him. Well - JR loves playin with his balls.

What?

Geez - ya'll need more coffee or somethin. GOLF! JR likes playin' golf.

Scrub - not so much. In fact, and I think I might have mentioned this once before... Scrub was invited to play in one of those golf tournies a while back. I advised my coworkers and team that Scrub ain't a golfer. But, they insisted I'd have fun. So - went.

Well - shortly into the round, probably about the 9th hole or so, my good pal PornStar (so called cause his name is the same as a rather famous adult entertainment star with a rather long... ummmm.... schlong. There. I said it) - uuuhhhhhh - oh ya: my good pal PornStar actually said to me "Scrubbie..." he said... "Please don't EVER play golf again."

From that point forward, and in subsequent tournies - Scrub was officially the course bartender and gots to drive the golf cart thingy ensuring that everyone was socially lubricated. Yep - good for me.

Anyway - back to JR. And, his balls.

So - JR, bein a lover of the game, gets his giggles from living, breathing and eating the game of golf. And, up here in the Great White - when we are treated to a few days without the fluffly white stuff on the group - actually have a few patches of lawn set aside for people to run around and whack a few balls around and call it a game. Sure - most of the time, we just use gopher holes as targets, but, in some cases, we actually take a few mins to tidy things up and turn the lawn into somethin' quite attractive to those that do play golf.

One such case is in a burb in Ontario called Oakville. Ya - another Great White city named after nature. We are really quite fond of doing that. Makes ya wonder if we have Birch-ville. Or Pine-ville. or Daffodil-ville. Doesn't it?

And, in Oakville, this week, there is a fancy-schmancy game of golf going on. Ever heard of Mike Weir? If not - he is a golfer. Pretty darn'd good at it too. No gettin around it. Anyway - In Oakville, there is this game... the Mike Weir Charity Golf Classic. All kindsa folk joined in to play. Kevin Costner. Michael Jordan. Few other big name Golf types.

Why mention all this? Well, cause as you recall... I said JR likes the game. ALOT. So - in order to get the giggles, JR takes a few days off work to volunteer to be a hole jockey. Or whatever it is called. Basically - it's like he is the host of a hole. GawdDam - how funny does that sound. I dunno - he makes sure peoples dont get in the way. Stay behind the "keep out" fence. Dont make farty sounds when the golfers are takin their swings. That kinda stuff.

So - put all this together - and you now have the picture. Scrub's dear Bro-In-Law, JR, was hob-nobbin'! Seriously! The kid was hob-nobbin. Right there. With all them famous peoples. Geez.

JR - he's a quiet hob-nobber though. Doesn't run up for autographs. Pictures. Dinner dates. Nope - just takes a few snaps and calls it a day.

But - then again... JR is a Canuck. And, if there is one thing that we Canucks have a reputation for... it's bein polite. Ya know... don't get all in-your-face kinda people. We like it that way.

No - Canucks are not rude, obtuse, obscene.

You'd never catch us talkin all nasty and dirty. Specially on the interweb.

So, just to recap this post: Booze. JR. Naked Guy. Knobs and Balls.

Have a nice day.

Sweet Sounds and Sweet Sights

2009-07-19T10:35:00.003-04:00

Hey kids - Scrub again. It's a lazy Sunday 'round the Scrub Shack.

Laundry. Gots a chunk of meat in the hot box in prep for the Sunday Family Dinner. Old flicks on the tube.

The kid - stayed at Bing and Bong's last night. Again. And, it at this very moment crashed out on the couch on the lower level of the igloo.

The wife - sauntered off to meet a couple 'a gal pals from High School days. One of them - genuine Canadian Forces. The other - RIM exec.

So - was fartin around with a bit more digi-scrap stuff and had another pic from Jazz Fest.

Ain't she just gorgeous.

Ya, I know.

So - time to bugger off once again. Gotta tend to the meat in the hotbox. Sort *gulp* socks. Socks suck.

Scrub thinks this lazy Sunday deserves a wee drop of the hooch.

Later.

Another of Scrub's Fav Fives

2009-07-19T07:29:00.005-04:00

"Honey! Where's my Metformin?"

Hey kids - tiz your 'ol pal Scrubbie here.

My goodness... ya'll gots one of these where you live? A Dairy Queen? (NO - not some woman magnate in the milk industry... geez.)

Well - we here in North America - we gots lots of 'em. Been around for a while too. 'Course in the Great White - there are quite a few of them closed up during the snowy seasons. I dunno - seems as though alot of us Canucks are just not in the mood for icy cold treats when it is negative 400 degrees outside.

But, when the 'ol DQ is open - geez louise... we go lining up.

The DQ is an evil place for diabetics. You can always tell the diabetics too. They are the ones that either go in with a mask on just in case we're spotted and get the lecture on managing blood sugar, or they are the ones that start yawning instantly after finishing off their sinful treat. You'll often find us hiding in the bathroom scarfing down our metformin tablets in order to keep the numbers from reaching into the high double-digits. (Ya - in the Great White, we measure BG levels a little differently than our neighboureeno's to the south.)

Anyway - The DQ.

So - Scrub has decided to share his fav five DQ treats with ya. Ready? Ok... here they are:

#5 - The Banana Split. Oh joyous mounds of soft-serve ice cream with multiple flavours dripping down your mountainous heaps - how do I love thee?

#4 - The Banana Split Blizzard - Bit of a cheat - I know. It's a Banana Split thrown in a blender for 6 seconds.

#3 - A chocolate cherry sundae - the kids behind the counter have a bit of a fit if I order this. See... it's not actually on the menu. I usually end up having to explain to them how to make it. "You make a chocolate sundae and put a scoop of cherry topping on it". Usually solicits some kind of blank stare. I order this as much for the entertainment as the taste.

#2 - The chocolate dipped cone - Pure, simple - nothin' beats it. That soft ice cream with that chocolate coating on it - mmmm... deelishshus.

And... My #1 fav treat at DQ is...

A Pineapple Milkshake. I tell ya kids - if there is one thing that screams summertime to me - it is the taste of a pineapple milkshake.

Lets close this posting with a little prayer, shall we?

"Dear Lord... It is yer old pal Scrub here. How you doin? Hey - Lord... Seriously... Thanks for Pineapple Milkshakes. Well - thanks for pineapples and ice cream and cows for milk and stuff. Lord - Pineapple Milkshakes, Beavers, Trees, Flowers - all great ideas. Cheers."

And - Amen to that.

All that Jazz

2009-07-18T07:29:00.003-04:00

Good morning Scrublettes - tiz your good bud Scrubbie here.

The wife and I have often remarked that we just get the giggles when we think about where we live. Great White - yep love it. Province of Ontario - yep, love it too. But the 'lil burb where the Scrub Shack is set up permanent - love it to bits. We gots all kindsa stuff here. And, specially in the summertime. Festivals. Lots of festivals.

One of them is the Jazz Festival. Oh Baby!

Now, Scrub is genuninely superficial. Make no mistake. I dont generally spend my off hours loungin' with a pencil thin chin wrap for a beard. Nor do I go 'round sayin' "It ain't got that thing if you don't have that swing" or whatever... Nor do I hang in dark 'lil lounges smokin ciggies and sippin on cocktails takin in the latest jazz act. But - I still like the stuff. Like live performances even more.

Well -that's what this was all about. Go ahead... google it. Uptown Waterloo Jazz Festival.

Oh kids - it was a grand and glorious mini date for the wife and I. We sauntered on down, plunked down a couple 'a lawn chairs. Spent 15 sheckles on a glass of vino for the wife and locally brewed wobbly pop for Scrub. And, took in the sounds. Good times.

And, among the entertainment - there was crazy rats-nest-hair lady sitting beside us. There was colour explosion lady who was wearing every single colour of the rainbow and a few colours I had never seen before. All in shades of neon. There was partially shaved head chic who was just a little too overweight to be wearin quite as little as she was. Her creepy dude friend who fancies himself a dancer but, really, should be on meds for whatever condition he has. And, blue-jacket swinger dude who was wearin this sky blue linen sportscoat that kinda looks like it came from the 1970's, and his white woven fedora hat, and his far too short banker's grey flannel slacks that were showing off too much of his white socks. This guy was on the prowl for sure.

Hmmmm - perhaps it is time to rethink where the Scrub Shack is set up permanent.

Allow me to introduce you...

2009-07-15T23:02:00.003-04:00

Get ready kids - there's a new player in Scrubbie's world.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

Scrub is one lucky fella. There's all kindsa folk 'round the Great White that take part in the saga that is Scrubbie.

Lots of 'em you know already. The Wife, the Kid. Some of the kids punk pals - Bing & Bong and Eddy Haskell. The Outlaws. Mama Scrub & Papa Scrub. JR - The hunky Bro-In-Law. Hurricane. Hurricane's sister Tornado. Hurricanes punk kids - Big D and H2. There's my pal Geek. Naked Guy (yech). Cuzin Dolphin. Oh - and the lunatic dog. Sure - there's more. But - Scrub just needed to get yer brain in gear.

Well - time to bring someone new to your attention.

Scrubs, Scrubettes - allow me to introduce you to... (drum roll please)... Duct Tape Trunk Guy.

Yes - Duct Tape Trunk Guy.

Sure - I'll explain.

See - as you know, the Kid - plays Soccer. (Football for all you U.K.'ers visitin' ce soir) And, at our regular Soccer (Football for all you U.K.'ers visitin') practices and games - there's this fella... whom we shall henceforth call Duct Tape Trunk Guy. And, he is called Duct Tape Trunk Guy 'cause... well... (ya, yer puttin it together, aren't ya)... 'cause he drives this go-kart that appears to be held together by... ummm... duct tape. Dude's got it everywhere on the buggy. But, what make the wife and I take a pretty serious second look is that dude keeps his trunk (or 'boot' for all you U.K.'ers visitin' ce soir) closed with duct tape. Tons of it. Everywhere.

Duct Tape Trunk Guy - he's a Coach as well. Noble, eh? Dude takes time out of his day to give young'ens here in the Great White some adult wisdom and guidance through sport. Nice.

But.. wait... there's more.

Duct Tape Trunk Guy gots a lead foot. And drives his buggy, held together by duct tape, at stupid speed on the dirt roads to and from the soccer fields. Ya - where the punks are all crossin to get to their practices and games.

Duct Tape Trunk Guy - not the best when it comes to parking his buggy either. In fact, last week - parked so close to Scrub's go-kart that Scrub had to seriously suck in his gut (chisled and fabulous as it is) just to squeeze myself into the cockpit.

Duct Tape Trunk Guy - also has some of Scrub's go-kart paint colour on his buggy, held together by duct tape, cause Duct Tape Trunk Guy is an idiot parking too close and swingin out his door - puttin a fresh dent in Scrub's.

And, Duct Tape Trunk Guy - who is a coach, and was, in fact the coach of the opposing team tonight at the kid's soccer game - is a loudmouth, obnoxious, boob. (giggle - I said 'boob' on the interweb)

Oh... make no mistake kids - Scrub does not like Duct Tape Trunk Guy. No, not one little bit.

Tonight, in fact, I was sayin to the wife.... "I dont like Duct Tape Trunk Guy".

So, dude, if yer readin this little scribble...

1. slow down. There's kids around for goodness sake.

2. just 'cause you drive a sh*tbox doesnt give you the right to bang the heck out of other people's go-karts

3. dude - yer a real-estate agent. Ya - saw your business card on your dash in amongst all the crap in the car. you seriously think this is a good image?

4. Scrub's gots a couple 'a years on ya. Let me share this nugget of wisdom. If yer go-kart needs to be held together by duct tape - it's time to get a new one.

Maybe Scrub's just bitter that our team lost by 1 tonight to Duct Tape Trunk Guys team.

Nah.

Big Brother is watching.

2009-07-12T23:06:00.003-04:00

Big Brother is watching.

Evening kids - your old pal Scrub here.

I should actually say "We are watching Big Brother" instead of Big Brother is watching.

Yes - I know... I can hear the groans all the way over here in the Great White - right through the 'ol puter screen. But - c'mon... how can you resist? Besides... ya'll know that the Wife and I just cant resist that delishush thing called Reality TV. WooHoo! Throw a few whackjobs into a house. Lock the door behind 'em. Throw up a few cameras to catch their wickedly evil ways. Yep - that's entertainment! We just giggle our arses off watching these nutcases go at each other. Bowl of popcorn, couple'a tall cold diet colas, Big Brother on TV - yep... it's all good.

So - our dear friend Hurricane has a couple 'a punks of her own. And, the elder of the two - Big D - 'twas the lad's birthday on July 1st. But, he and his punk bro, H2, just arrived in Ontario couple 'a days ago. Their primary domicile is an igloo in the French part of the Great White. Anyway... Big D - turned 14. 14 I say. Sheesh. And, Scrub, every year, makes a special dinner for Big D and H2 when their birthdays roll around. They get to choose their dinner of choice, and Scrub whips it together for 'em.

This year, Big D, back in December, told Scrub that this years B-day dinner of choice should be - now brace yourselves kids... Oysters and Chicken Wings. Yes. That's right. Oysters. And Chicken Wings.

I'll wait while you pick yourselves up off the floor.

Back? Ok. So... Scrub put it together. And, the punks tucked in. Geez.

As you are well aware - Scrub and seafood. Ummmmm.... well, in a word... No. But, as Scrub loves Hurricane's punks like they were his own, I gave in and brought the devil-spawn into the shack and plated up the disgusting beasties all pretty like and presented to Big D.

Now - here's somethin a little weird. Both D and H2... they'll shovel pretty much anything down their gullet. They eat eyeballs, stomach, testicles, raw this and still squirmin that. Blech.

So - they two of them were tuckin' in for some oysters and H2 grabbed one of the nasty buggers and popped it in his mouth. Bit down. Then froze.

Oh yes - his face was ..... well.... he didn't have to say anything for us to know that biting down on his oyster was not the wisest thing to do. After a few moments of realization that it was, clearly, the most horrid and vile thing he'd ever slipped past his lips - out it slid as easily as it slid in. Yep - just shlorshed out onto his plate. We all said eeewwwww. But, then, in incredible slo-mo and high definition - everything else the lad had put down his throat today came out too.

And, again, we all said eeeewwwww.

But - being the slightly warped crew we are, also laughed our behinds off. Poor kid.

Then he laughed.

Ya - it was quite the event.

Anyway - in the end - all was good.

The dessert - well cake of course. And, chocolate, of course.

Ya know - there's just somethin about a slab of choclate cake, isn't there? One forkfull of homemade chocolate cake, creamy chocolate icing and a cold glass of milk... and everything is right with the world.

Happy Birthday Big D. We love ya pal.

Keep your arms and feet inside the ride at all times. Good advice.

2009-07-09T19:24:00.005-04:00

Anybody gots an aspirin? Tylenol? Anything?

Hey Scrubs and Scrubettes. Your older-than-most who where there pal Scrubbie here.

Geez Louise...

So, Scrub and the kid hopped in the go-kart yesterday and went for a jaunt to one of our Great White playgrounds - Canada's Wonderland. Go ahead - all you visiting from afar - Google it. I'll be here when you get back.

Back? Alrighty. So - Canada's Wonderland. Whipped out the magic whiz-bang card and paid for our tickets in. (Magic Whiz-Bang Card = a debit card. Called the Magic Whiz-Bang Card cause you swipe it through one of those little boxes, punch a few numbers in and Whiz! Bang! Your money is gone.)

Why just the kid and I? Well - couple 'a reasons. First - the kid had an uneartly fear of roller coasters. Seriously.

The wife and I - not so much. Love the beasties. So - figured it was only natural that the fruit of our loins (eeewwwwww) should love 'em too. But, year after year - nadda.

So, this year, the kid bein 12 and all... thought we'd give it another go.

And, you will have noticed (all those of you who are not souced on giggly-juice right now) that I did type "HAD an unearthly fear". Yep - the kid did it! Faced his fear and hopped on board one of them thar death trains. And, like any of you who like coasters know... do it once, and u'r hooked. Kinda like makin whoopee. Ain't it. Ya know - An hour leading up to it - then 2 and a half minutes of screamin and you're done.

Anyway...

The coaster of choice: Behemoth. Dear Gawd, kids. This one is 'da bomb. Need to Google it? Go ahead. Not in the mood? Just check out the pic. Explains it all...

See - there it is. WooHoo! Oodles of fun, let me tell ya.

Out of towners... a highly recommended locale for your next getaway.

Oh - just make sure to bring along a whole whackload of tradin' items with ya. Lunch for the kid and Scrub which consisted of a burger and fries, chicken fingers and fries and two soda pops - 25 bucks. Seriously. Bottle of Cola there - 4 bucks. Ya, not a fan of that. But - what can ya do. They got ya so they'll milk ya dry.

The other reason for the Scrub & Son trip - well, I mentioned that the wife and I have a horn-dog of a son on our hands. Apparently, some switch went off and the kid is practically gettin whiplash everytime some pretty young thing goes strollin by. And, he's goin out to dances - parties - blah blah blah. So - in the tradition of Fathers and Sons everywhere in the world - the kid and I had one of them thar 'chats' - 'bout stuff and such.

Thought it would be a good idea to pepper in conversations throughout the day rather than sittin the boy down at the local waterin' hole and makin' it all intense and stuff. Let me tell ya - it was a good day.

The fodder for some of our chats was all around us yesterday. 'Specially when it came to providing advice on the kind of gals to avoid. Yech - they were a'plenty!

Oh - c'mon now... all you mom's out there readin' this.... you know what I mean. Sure you do. As our good friend and gal-pal the Joodster says: "As long as they dont come home with those 'skanky' girls - I'm fine."

Well... Joodster... don't send yer boys there alone.

That's all I'm sayin.