Bashtard's weblog

what's up with that?

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has been bombarded with spam for viagra, "enlarge your penis" , "pleasure her more" , etc...

That's all fine and dandy that I can turn my penis into an 20ft Incredible Hulk ** currently 19ft :p ** and can tear a womans vagina to shreds, but I'd rather the spam be of a different sort. It would make them worthy of at least reading before instant deletion.
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Subject: There is a woman knocking at your door right now and wants to fuck your brains out.

...**knock knock**....**Answer door**

Me: 'hello'

Girl who wants to fuck my brains out: 'lets go at it'

Me: 'that was the best 10 seconds of my life'

Girl who wants to fuck my brains out: 'are we more than friends?'

Me: 'uhmmm.... yeah!! that's it, more than friends'

...**knock knock**...

Me: 'sorry, got another email. you'll either have to join or leave'
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Yeah... that would be good spam.
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Hello,

Thank you for your email.

Please email abuse and include full headers if you don't want women to come to your door and fuck your brains out.

Regards,

bashtard

what's up with that?

I'm willing to let bygones be bygones, but are they willing??

NOT BLOODY LIKELY

Rudiger forwards me a job posting and man am I suited for this position. Little problem being that I alienated everyone at this company, so the actual prospect of a job is very distant.

Not the best pay, but it would do for now.

We'll see how it goes.... but I'm sure there will be plenty more blog time ahead without any of that work stuff getting in the way.

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

This weekend, although busy I was kept, SUCKED DONKEY BALLS

The cottage I went to was on an island within Lake Simcoe and I had no way of leaving and going back to my cottage as first planned.

Maybe the only good part was on Sat. when the group of guys came back to my house for a BBQ.

....and the possibility of seeing the goddess naked via a webcam

After that, it was back to the cottage and back to boredom.

Never knew what it was like hanging out with fucking punk ass white trash losers that were many moons younger than myself.

I do now, and know that it ain't gonna happen again.

Left the shit-hole on the island and chilled ay my cottage for a bit.... and now here I sit writing this.

Possibly some gleaming and another chance at seeing the goddess naked could end this weekend on a good note.

I just had yet another fucking retarded ass dream.
Now I'm no chemist, so I have no idea what this dream means.

People in this dream include:
myself
Paul D.
random females

This dream was a continuation of other dreams that I've been having recently. In the dream I have a comb-over, sorta. There is something flapping over on my head, but its my scalp with the current length hair. I can see it clearly everytime in the dream that I have to lean over, I have to hold this scalp-over onto my head.

I finally got fed up, and with Paul D. there, just after settling a gasoline stealing incident (don't ask... not going there) I decided enough was enough. I start to pull off this scalp-over. It doesn't hurt, but the top of my head is coming off and leaving a large gap between the skin layers. I am left with a huge gap on my head, but within this gap is growing hair.

I pulled the top of my head off as if it were following a seam.

I have no fucking idea what that was all about.

I'm not balding am I??
Seriously guys, I can handle it :(

what's up with that?

For years women have been trying to put down the male theory that women are attracted to a man's money.

They've used excuses such as...
"No, we don't care what they look like"
"Love before money"
...and other bullshit like that

WELL....
I was downtown last Sunday at a patio bar and the waitress was rather cute I must say. I shot her some looks as she did the same to me. All was good.

Then I needed to do a cash-back cuz I was outta money.
So the two of us go to their debit machine to cash-back 40 bucks.
When I hand her my new bank card (institution information withheld) she begins to flirt with me. I'm there in shock that a fancy looking new bank card was my in with this chick.

Then it kicked in.... women.... money... gold diggers

I think I'm gonna have to go back there and do some cash-backs on my Visa or AMEX

That'll get me some action for sure!!

what's up with that?

So I go to Canadian Tire Newmarket to return the rotor cuz its shit

No hassle when swapping the part, but I was shocked to hear what they were doing with the part I returned.

CS Person to Auto Parts Person:
"anything wrong with it"

Auto Parts Person to CS Person:
"no, I'm gonna put it back in stock"

I think my jaw hit the floor on that one.
I return it cuz its shit and they put it back on the shelf.


....and as I was leaving, these two bitches that work at Canadian Tire were walking behind me and I may have cut them off a bit when I was leaving the CS counter.

I hear one of them whisper to the other "pardon me"
I look back with the dirtiest look a human has ever given.
One of those "are you talking to me?" kinda looks.

She freaks and is like "sorry, I was just kidding" and proceeds to lay her hands on my shoulders.

Now I know I'm attractive and all.... but c'mon ladies, hands off unless you get my approval.

I have never met a mechanic who had the balls to tell me that my brake peddal was violently pulsating because there were 2 small rust spots on the hub assembly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
For those not familiar with brake designs on a Saturn:
There is the hub.
Much like a computer hub, all things work based on this part

There is a rotor.... not a ROUTER
The rotor goes on the hub.

There are brake pads.
uhmmm.... they're black :)

There are calipers.
Not clippers like you would use for hair.
These house the brakes and sit around the rotor to compress and decompress the brake pads against the rotor.

Thus a brake assembly is formed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I (my Rulli GM Goodwrench Team) replaced my rotors and brake pads because I was hearing a noise coming from the brakes.
The rotors were starting to get too worn down.

Everything seems fine at first so I drive home that night.
Then at a higher speed, I go to brake and notice that the brake peddal is violently pulsating against my foot - that's bad

When I pull into the driveway, I notice that my brakes are making that usual 'starting to be used' smell, but they are also smoking -also bad

So next morning I look at the brakes myself and it appears that the right front caliper is stuck and the tire won't turn. I lube that sucker right up and all seems fine again.

Go to drive it, violently pulsating again.

Hmmmmmm.... now I determine that the rotor is warped because in the pulsating, it feels like the brakes are catching... not catching... catching.... etc.....

**Now the fun part of the story**

My father calls Canadian Tire Aurora to see if they can look at the car and determine if the rotors are indeed warped.

They say, "sure, bring it here within the hour and we'll look at it"
I get there and they say "sorry, we're all booked for the rest of the day"

I look in the service area and only half of the work stations have a car in them and the entire mechanical staff is there.

Continuing to look, I also notice that they are shooting each other with water guns. They instantly lost the "we're busy" argument.
My car was being looked at a few minutes later.

So I describe that this all started after I put the new brakes and rotors on the car. They take it all in and proceed to take the tires off. I get called over and the mechanic has the BALLS to tell me that there is a bit of rust on the hub and that is making the rotor move incorrectly and that is the cause. My comment to him, "you can tell me that with a straight face?"

I continue to argue with him.
He tries to convince me that the rust spots are the problem.
I explain that this wasn't the first brake job on the car and that has NEVER been an issue before, and those rust spots are tiny.

Then I ask if they have a method of testing to see if the rotor might be warped. He tells me that if the peddal still does the pulsating after they remove the rust spots, then they would replace the rotors. I continue to ask if they have anything to 'machine' the rotors to see if they are warped. He confirms that they do not.

FINE...... I decide to play there game and take my car home.

Before I do, I question the people at the service desk.
The mechanic who drove my car into the work area happened to walk in and I asked him if that is seriously the answer they are going to give me, he responds with "I'm not certified"
I ask, if the person certified drove my car.... NOPE

I start freaking out.

Not only is the answer RETARDED but the person who fixed it didn't even test it to see if he can figure it out first.

Then I ask if they have anything to 'machine' the rotors and they tell me 'YES'

I freak out even more.

Then I explain the reason I went in to see if the rotors were warped. They tell me that for 40 dollars they can 'machine' them for me to make them even.

I freak out even more.

I start really bitching telling them that I bought the part from them the day before and I was NOT gonna pay money to fix a part that should be replaced.

Then I ask about the half ass job the mechanic did.
They have the NERVE to tell me that "he gets paid for his work, he's not gonna take the rotor off and figure out if there's anything wrong with it" .... during a FREE brake inspection that is.

I'm done with Canadian Tire Aurora
I called Canadian Tire Newmarket and told them I'm going to return this shit ass part to them and get a new one. They are like, "no problem, just bring the receipt"

**screaming** AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH **screaming**

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

On one hand, I've got a local female who has a boyfriend but makes me giddy like a school girl

On the other hand, my former fiance turned possible re-relationship partner who lives in Australia

Local female: boyfriend baggage
Former Fiance: baby baggage

To weigh out the baggage, I much prefer the baby baggage
I was very close with the baby and love her much more than I ever will the boyfriend of the local girl

Don't know about this boyfriend baggage thing
You don't wanna come out and say, "break up with him for me"
but you're damn well thinking it

Do I...... wait it out and see if anything materializes with the local girl, or do I go back to an old and possible blossoming relationship?

That is the million dollar question.

Sure...... I could do neither, but that angle doesn't have enough mustard quite yet

Oh well, if only jobs were as easy to find as women

one more thing, "what's up with that?"

I'm at muh ma fuckin niggas place an' we's iz playing some PS2.
My nigga has ma fuckin Vice City so we's iz playing an' kickin some crackah ass.

His little brudda asks me if I wants ta play some NES* instead.
I had ta fix da NES* first cuz it wuz doin' dat thin' where ya gots ta make love ta da cartridge ta git da game ta play.

I fix it, but we's don' git ta play.
So I jet home an' find muh ma fuckin NES* an' start playing some Kung Fu, Zelda 2, Mike Tyson'sPunch Out... an' about 12 other games.

Then I jet ta play muh ma fuckin PS2 an' some Fifa 2003.
I turned da PS2 off afta uh few minutes an' jet back ta da NES*

Those classic games wuz WAY bettah.
They didn't need da fancy ass graphics or da high cost ta make dem pimp-tight (though dey wuz expensive back then)
The gameplay o' deez games far out weighs da lack o' graphics.

....bomb game... Super Spike V'Ball

So if ya gots one o' deez ancient systems laying around, ya gotz ta gotz ta give it da respect it deserves an' start 'er up.


PEACE sho 'nuff!


*NES: Nintendo Entertainment System

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

In my early teens, I used to be a very active and injury free young man with a promising career in baseball. I also had a not-so-bad reputation as a rep-level soccer goalie prior to that.

Amazing how things can change :(

Sure, I had injuries in my soccer days. Such as being kicked in the bottom of my foot whilst in the process of kicking the ball. Possibly the largest swollen ankle a human has ever seen before. From what I saw, it appeared that the tip of my foot touched my shin. That may be how I remember it, not reality.

But soccer was good to me. Many years of fun were had.
9 years, not one goal scored when I did play forward or defence.
I'm not ashamed at all. I was meant for goal prevention, that's all.

Then baseball...
Those were the really good years.
I went an entire season without getting out against this one team.
No matter how they pitched me or played defence against me, I could somehow get on base. After that year I moved up a level.
I was by far the best of my team at all aspects. The best 3rd baseman that team had ever seen and the biggest slugger as well. Just try and keep my hits in the park.

I have two stories that I love when it comes to baseball.

First one....
It was the cliche of the bottom of the 9th (we only played 7 though), the bases were loaded with two outs and if I didn't hit a home run, we lost the game and were out of the playoffs. Thankfully I was inspired by an opposition player on their bench who screamed "This guy can't hit". Well hit I did, a 'grand slam'
As I strolled ever so slowly down the 3rd base line, I made sure to mention to the opposition player "Thought I couldn't hit"

Second one...
The Bolton pitchers that year were taught how to throw a curve ball
This curve was a very exaggerated pitch. It would start at the height of your head and drop into the strike zone. It was pathetic to see my teammates duck out of the way every time that pitch was thrown. Basically every batter, aside from maybe one other, would be out in 3 pitches cuz they just couldn't understand the pitch.

So now its my time up to bat. Baseball is a game of skill but mental games and intimidation play a very large factor.
I played the mental game to perfection.
The first pitch comes and of course its that slow curve ball.
So I play up to it and drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Wouldn't you know.... I hear "STRIKE"
At this point in my head I say "I got him now"
Since I looked so pathetic at the first pitch, second pitch coming... slow curve ball. This time though, I don't fall to the ground. Rather I stay in there and wait for the pitch to drop into the strike zone.
Once it did... that ball didn't have a chance. It was hit out of the park and landed on a driveway across the road from the ball park.
I never again faced one of those curve balls or that pitcher.
Every time I came to bat the pitcher would change.
Now THAT is the most respect anyone has ever paid me.
Believe me, I rubbed it into the faces of all my teammates.

**Back to the original topic**

This is where the story for our hero (jcloth) changes.
A mid-season game I hit a routine ground ball to the shortstop.
Problem though, I am off-stride. If I keep running I will run right passed the base. So I have to make a quick decision, "two small steps or one big one". My choice is to take one big step. After that mistake, if the Matrix was released my thought would have been "why oh why didn't I take the BLUE pill". I managed to hit the tip of my shoe on the base and snapped my knee backwards tearing my ACL. I lay on the ground right after with no pain, only saying to myself "that couldn't have been good". Two surgeries later, my knee was okay, until two weeks ago when I heard a 'POP' from my knee again and I have felt pain ever since. Looks like surgery #3 is on its way.

Continuing the downfall....
Gym class. We're playing football outside and the pass comes right to me. Non-contact football, and I get tackled from behind from a long time friend. I manage to sprain every finger as they all jammed into the ground and managed to knock my hips out of alignment. I have dealt with the hip pain ever since. 100's of dollars to the chiropractor and it still takes the lightest nudge to make my lower back hurt again.

More recent problems.

My thumb gets jammed playing hockey a few years ago.
All I did was glance my left thumb off of another players arm.
100's of dollars later... still have pain.

Then in early 2001 throwing a baseball, I hurt my shoulder.
A pain I still feel to this date. Apparently I tore a ligament in my right shoulder.

**Things start to get somewhat better for me**
I meet someone while in Australia.
We spend a lot of time together. She even visits me here.
I'll admit, I was in love. She had a daughter too, but I loved that daughter as if she was my own. Everything is great. In March I was going to move there with her to live with and possibly create a life together with my future step-daughter.

In January though, I lose my job thanks to "restructuring"
So now I'm unemployed, but that's okay. I have job interviews lined up in Melbourne so I'm good. My finances are all set too.

**Things turn to complete shit for me here**
Then one night on an attempt to eat 50 Tacos from Taco Bell, I receive an unexpected phone call and am told not to go to Australia anymore because she is in love with someone else. To which I find later, she is now living with this person. Big kick in the nuts there when you were willing to give up everything for that person. I politely told Maverick, Grimm, Mycophile and Make that I had to leave because I had a few issues on my mind.

So now I've lost my job and my woman.

Many months of "why me" were to follow.
From a person who never cries, I couldn't play one of my hockey games because I just couldn't stop crying. After the game I just had to go to my car and cry cuz I was so hurt.

Then recently, we (old high school crew) decide that we are gonna go to Cuba. For me, I needed to go just to get away from the reality of life. It was the best thing that I ever did and the best time I ever had. I have never been more relaxed in my life.

I even met an Italian girl that I really liked and lived fairly close to me. People who know me well, know that me being attracted to an Italian female is very unheard of. Italian women make me sick in so many ways, but this one didn't. She fell into a lot of the Italian stereotypes that I hated but none of that mattered cuz she just had something about her that made me not care about the stereotyping that I've done through my life. BUT.... to continue the emotional abuse that is being fed to me, she has a boyfriend and I don't have a chance to get to know her better.

.....that brings us up to today.

Not that my job was a high paying or entertaining job, I had a job I really enjoyed and friends there that I plan to keep forever. As well, I had a life planned with someone whom I actually loved. Not that "love you but not in love with you"
I had that "I'm totally in love with you" feeling.

Now I have none of it.

Added to that now, I have a torn ligament in my left shoulder as well. That makes problems with both shoulders, back, knee and thumb. Physically, I don't think I could be worse.

As far as work goes, nobody seems to want to call me back after I send in a resume. Relationship wise, there doesn't appear to be anything on the horizon for me. Not that I need a girlfriend, but I would enjoy the comfort level having a woman in your life provides. The single life is great cuz I can do whatever the hell I want without worrying about anyone else, but much like everything else... it gets old too.

Luckily Cuba took away all the stress I had before, otherwise instead of just talking about Fight Club as a joke, I may have turned into Tyler myself.

....but the story of our hero is not over.
He will be back and you will be sure to hear about it when he does

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

So me and Grimm are out at our favourite watering hole like usual, when in the distance I see a large afro.

I could see the fro above the person sitting in front of him.
Then finally I can see him in the clear.
Mexican Disco Stu was his coined name.
Though the 'Disco Stu' portion was only in there for comic value.

Rather, he looked like one Sanchez's relatives that illegally crossed over the border into U.S. territory and continued to migrate further north.

He was all decked out in his blue jeans and white t-shirt with unknown decals.
Very classy individual.

It was hard for him to get served with the Peso being so low in value these days.

Then he went into the spotlight and humor was had by all (Grimm and myself)

Uhmmm.... shit, this isn't as interesting as I thought

Well we saw some real white trash too.
The girl was wearing blue jeans that were too big and a crappy white t-shirt. Her most appealing feature was her teeth that I'm sure I saw in "The Big Book of British Smiles"


Zip it up and Zip it out

what's up with that?

Did you know that 'Big Brother 4' is on now??
When the hell did Big Brother 2 and 3 air?
....and actually, who the hell cares??

I CAN'T STAND this reality TV crap that is forced down our throats
Thankfully I learned to move on and not watch TV with the frequency I once did.
Really, if they took sports, A&E, Discovery and TLC off the air I wouldn't ever watch TV again.

I see commercial after commercial for more and more of these shit shows that require absolutely no writing talent or talent from actors. The only thing that seems to be required is a real sleezy host of the show who is over dramatic and needs to be beaten as bad as that loser on American Idol that ragged on everyone.

Thank you Triumph for judging his ass and calling him gay!!

Lets do a rundown of shows I've heard of but never seen before:
Survivor (any of them)
Big Brother (sounds like a black TV show to me)
American Idol
Canadian Idol
Joe Millionaire
The Bachelor
The Bachelorette
The one where the guys are wearing masks for some reason
The one where Monica Lewinsky (sp) hosts it for some reason
Fear Factor
American Junior (just saw the commercial)
...and however many more there are

That is freakin' PATHETIC that these shows exists.

What's even more pathetic you ask??
Obvious answer... the people who watch these shows

It's getting to be so bad on TV that shows like 'A Baby Story' or the other 50 thousand homemaking shows are starting to look interesting.

....and on the same subject, when 'Trading Places' or 'Trading Spaces' (whatever) got rid of that hot chick that used to be the host, it lost my attention


Cold Case Files and Sports Update shows rule!!


That's just one guy's opinion.

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

So, either I am a sleep walker with alternative hand writing and a fascination for depositing personal cheques into other peoples accounts... or someone is stealing from me.

Alternative hand writing?
Depositing cheques?
Stealing?

I know... I'll say it for you, "what's up with that?"

Now I'm no chemist, but I think I know when I being robbed.

The most sleep walking I've done in my life is turning the wrong way and ending up in the kitchen and urinating on the fridge as a very young boy. (True Story)
So we can rule out sleep walking as being a possibility.

Sadly, I must admit that I am temporarily unemployed and living off the gracious tax dollars of my fellow Canadians. I am thankful for your Employment Insurance, don't get me wrong, that is why I feel it is my duty to become a super sleuth and protect your tax dollars from fraud.

I thought, what are the chances that someone else in my region has the same name and/or initials as me. I decide to investigate via Canada411 and I do find someone. Who would have thought that I would have found a match?? Alas... it is my father and after close examination, his chicken scratch writing does not match that on the signed cheque.

According to my local government office, I have been depositing my cheques with prompt regularity, much like a good unemployed citizen would. There's a catch however. As discussed previously, I do not sleep walk and I can assure you that I have only one form of hand writing.... meaning that someone has been generously depositing these cheques for me.

They seem to have the account numbers wrong though, because they have been depositing them into their personal account and not into my account as the government body has informed me.

Again, I'm no chemist, but if I were stealing government cheques from someone, I personally wouldn't deposit them at the same banking institution, and I would be sure I wasn't depositing them into my personal account. I would at least make some effort to make sure that the cheque could not be traced back to myself.

This thief is clever though...
The cheques don't even arrive in my mailbox, so they are intercepted before I have a chance to deposit them myself.

Having said that, there is a lot of circumstantial evidence pointing right at my local post office as to where the scene of the crime is taking place.

But who am I to make accusations?

I will be leaving this in the capable hands of the local police force.
Yes, Chief Wiggums and Office Bar Brady will get to the bottom of this for me and bring the culprit to justice!

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?

what's up with that?