Jetson Stamina

CHRISTMAS IS ABOUT...

2010-12-31T11:07:00.000-08:00

Opening your doors to the spirit of giving and wishing everyone good cheer...

Making Mix Tapes for your friends and personalizing the listening experience with a custom CD carrying case...

It's about paying that extra 15 cents for a shocker. I mean, for that price, you can get a shocker 6.6 times for every dollar.

Taking Snuggies to a whole new gift giving level by
bedazzling the living shit out of them...

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

2010-12-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

Attention: Friends

You are invited to

The 4th Anal

Wrap Your Box!
Thursday December 23rd at 6pm
Maison Des Staminas
RSVP REQUESTED

FAQ

I had such a great time last year that I've forgotten what this is... so what's the deal?

Wrap Your Box was conceived 4 years ago when Mr. & Mrs Stamina saw a need for parents and lazy people to wrap their children and loved one's gifts in peace and quiet.

Wait, will there be peace and quiet?

Yes. I Call my shot glasses Peace & Quiet. In case you're wondering I call my biceps thunderbold and lightning. Why, you ask? Because they are very very frightening. Galileo!

What do I bring?

Some wrapping paper, maybe tape. The idea is we all share in each others wrapping paper to have a greater variety under the tree.

But my wrapping paper is from the Dollar Store, is that OK?

Yes, Denis... that's fine.

Did you mean to say Annual not Anal?

Maybe. Depends on how up tight you are. Just relax baby and let it happen.

Will there be food and beverages?

There should be some beer and we will likely order Pizza and hot chocolate. Feel free to bring your own liquor. I am not your Liver's bartender.

Can I bring my children?

Are Reindeers real? So...ummm yes. (They're real right?) Please feel free to bring kids, but you better still have gifts to wrap or the Elf comes out of the closet to give you a Donkey Punch. (Do not google this term)

I have friends who are alone on the 23rd. Can they come to Wrap Your Box?

Would anyone refer to said friends as "Assholes" or "...a real bunch of cawksuckers?" If the answer is no, then bring them along. If the answer is yes, then bring them.

What else will we do that night?

Matt suggested a Key Party last year and that didn't go over well. Not because we didn't want to share but because nobody wanted to end up driving Matt's 1989 Protege.

There is a baby in my vagina. Is it safe to come to this party?

Yes. And, baby's don't come from the vagina. They come from the belly button. Duhhh.

Will your son be there?

Yes. And, he will likely leave a snot stain on your right or left shoulder. He tags all of his victims.

How long will this party last?

Who said anything about a party... it's really more of a hootenanny where grown adults sit on the floor and complain about they're bum and knees hurting while wrapping toys that either talk, bark or light up in strobe-like sequences that an epileptic might consider unappealing.

Can I ring my laptop to do work?

No! Jesus wouldn't bring a laptop the night before, the night before your birthday would he? No he wouldn't.

Who would win in a fight between Jesus and Santa Claus?

Easy. Jesus is a pacifist. So he would Pass A Fist right through Santa's Skull.

Is this FAQ still about the party?

Shit no, I got carried away several questions ago.

Did you ever shit in your hockey pants?

I will see you at the party. Good bye.

RSVP Below.

Thanks,

Management

2010-09-14T13:35:00.001-07:00

Re-Gifting

2010-08-30T12:54:00.000-07:00

Dear You,
There are many reasons why we should not be co-workers. The least of which is my undeniable urge to celebrate your birthday by Re-Gifting your own desk, chair, stapler, keyboard, mouse, printer, stamps, stamp ink, pencils and scissors.

Kindest Regards,

Jetson Stamina

YEAH IT'S LONG. I PROMISE IT'S WORTH YOUR TIME

2010-08-20T11:50:00.000-07:00

So here's the story...

A coworker's husband has been selling stuff on Kijiji. For some reason, he feels the need to invent stories about the stuff he's selling to make people feel like he's legit. Here's the thing, if you look at his SELLER PROFILE the lies don't add up.

In one add, he's selling purses to which he writes

"Bought these purses in Cypress for my GF who is no longer my GF. Her Loss. Your Gain."

In another add, he's selling a Bike Stroller.

"My Wife was injured in a car accident and is unable to use this brand new bike stroller."

Where there is deception, there is opportunity. So, I decided to mess with him by creating a fake hotmail account and attempting to buy said purses.

Here goes...

From: JOSIE

Ok so I read your seller profile and all the other stuff you are selling. I wonder if your injured wife who cant use the bike stroller noes about your girlfriend from cypress that you buy nice things for. I dont juge people like you but you will find the church one day and whatever you will feel bad.

Who cares kijiji is made by scienceologists and they are not good anyways.

Ok so the purses. I no fakes and have a good eye and can tell yours are for sure real but you say $250 for 3 when if I buy 3 separate at 75$ it comes to $225. I guess I buy 3 seperated for the better deal right. Or how abot you give me the purses for $50 each and I dont tell your wife about your cypress girlfriend hahaha jokes jokes.

Ok so $50 for each and we meat do you know where the Winners is on st-joseph? I am getting a ride there on Sunday Or can you bring to my complex in Kanata, Im here days and nights here is the adresse 2765 Jackmans Road, apartment 1721B.

Let me now how to meat.

Thank You! My price is negoshable.

Josie

From: DALE

In response to your ridiculous, misspelled, religious rant about "people like me". I am a Canadian Soldier who was deployed in the middle east 5 years ago, when I purchased the purses. My girlfriend who was in Canada broke up with me, and I have since met my wife and started a family.

As for "your eye" the purses are certainly fakes as I would not be selling them at 75 dollars, if they were real.

Lastly, before you decide to pour a pile of bull-shit opinions regarding religion and your church, hit the spell checker, that way you only come across as an asshole, and not a dumb asshole.

Purses are sold.

From: JOSIE

Hello Mr. Dale,

I am so sorry, I made the bad jokes. I do not have a spell checker person because i live alone. Besides, Why would I need to write without spelingue missed steaks? This is just for buying and selling not for writing books to sell. I am not Stephan King. haha Whatever he is a scienceologist to and we both know wahts wrong wtih them. haha jokes jokes. but for real, they also caused the AIDS ok don't be offensive about it.

Ok so, I want your bags so much. So very much. I am willing to pay $160 right now, cash no questions ask and we dont get the police involved in this thing.

Can you deliver by sunday? I will pay for your gas maybe 20$ and have Pizza pockets if you are hungry and I will put my chihuahahs in the bedroom so they don't attack because they don't like when strangers are around my oxygen machine... but tehy are jealous. They also don't like sausages stupid dogs.

Again, I am sorry for hurting your felines, I am not a mean person.

I was just meaning that you seemed like a player. that's all.

So can you do 130$ delivered?

I will be at my computer until Terry moves me, so please respond so I can get the money.

Thank You!

I want the bags so much to put things inside. Like my chihuahas thats what Paris Hilton does and I luv fashion. OK SORRY again, but I have the money now...ok lets do this.

Please Respond.

Thanks,

Josie

(Time to let him in on the joke)

P.S. Dale, please enjoy your weekend and tell Christine that everyone at work misses her.

From: Dale

Is this Lucy? Who did this! You Bastards!!! Got me good. I love Pizza Pockets!

Dale

2010-07-12T08:20:00.001-07:00

I make Mix Tape for you. Good Price. Free. You e-mail contact info. First 3. Hurry. Go. Now.

I am attempting to run a generosity deficit and it's about to run out.

So Counter Culture

2010-06-29T11:23:00.000-07:00

So very

counter culture.

Found Frequently Frequenting

2010-06-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

When I'm not here, you can find me on twitter.

www.twitter.com/jetsonstamina

When I'm not on twitter, you can find me being awesome. Look for the man with a unitard giving high fives.

Fat Alberts Launches New Taco Menu

2010-06-23T11:07:00.000-07:00

People have a lot to say about the Kids today.

Kids today are lazy.
Kids today have a sense of entitlement.
Kids today have no respect.

... But alot of those people put out what they see in themselves.

Here's the unspoken truth about todays youth.

Kids today have decent grammar.
Kids today are very resourceful.
Kids today know a little something about commerce. That if you sell something on a 3 for 1 deal., you increase volume while only giving away 25%.
Kids today know that your pocket knife should have a screwdriver.
Kids today know that if you sell pussy on billboard, the cops will never think to look right in front of their noses.

Black Market Life Lesson #1022

2010-06-14T06:15:00.000-07:00

My uncle Rusty used to always say,

"You can lead the whores to water but you can't make them sink."

One day I asked him what this meant and he replied...

"You need a soul to sink."

I never asked why you would want to lead a whore to water. I never tried to explain to him that his analogy was innacurate and that the actual analogy involved a horse.

I simply understood that you can't make people change.

Rusty was my horse. We were in the dessert and i'm terrible with directions.

Funnier Than Marmaduke

2010-04-13T13:03:00.000-07:00

Things You Should Know About Jetson

2010-04-08T07:21:00.000-07:00

When I eat an apple... I eat the apple. I eat the core. I eat the little sticker. But, I always leave the stem on my desk, edge of the couch or in my pocket. Like a trophy.
I chew my nails and bury them in the potted plants.
I enjoy changing diapers.
Speaking of potted plants. One time when I was called into the principal's office, he made me wait at his desk. (Presumably so I could sweat it out.) Instead, I took this time to bury all of his pens, pencils and even a calculator in the potted plants around his office.
I enjoy watching infomertial salesman work. Particularly when the product is clearly not a home run. Case and point: Rejuvaneque! The facial rejuvenation mask.
I only believe fortune cookies when they're right.

I always look at my poo when I'm done.
One time in highschool, a friend of mine had a house party while her parents were away. I collected all of the empty beer caps and placed them on top of the ceiling fan blades in the living room. When her parents got home to an immaculate house all was well, until they turned on the ceiling fan a week later and just under 100 bottle caps rained down like god was having a kegger.

I buy coffee at the gas station because it wants to know more about me.

I will always help you move.
I can make up really cool and memorable band names on the spot. Ladies and gentlemen put your hands together for "Gravy Plane"
I feel self-conscious about my intelligence when I read Marmaduke because I don't understand why anyone can find it funny or even mildly humourous.

I believe anyone can write a funnier Marmaduke. But you be the judge...

Marmaduke VS. Jetsonduke

ROUND 1

ROUND 2

VS

Agree or disagree?

Chapter 14

2010-03-04T06:28:00.000-08:00

There I was... in line at the SuperHero Diagnosis Center. When my number came up, they sent me down a long corridor where I was greeted by an obese transvestite in a lab coat. He-she had coke bottle glasses and a fake lisp that spit-whistled over a grizzled baretone voice.

When I asked the doctor if diagnosing superpowers was his superpower, he laughed coughed and laughed some more. Then told me that his superpower was the ability to make men pay him for sexual favors.

I laughed nervously and said, "So... hope you don't use your powers on me!"

He laughed and replied in his curiously lispy wrasp, "That would be unprofeshhhhhhional! Beshides, my power only works on Danny Bonaduce, Eddie Murphy and Nicolas Cage."

"Nicolas Cage?" I said.

Shaking his head and pausing briefly, he replied...

"That fucker made me shit through 2-hours of Bangkok Dangerous. I'll show him shum dangerous bang cock! I'll bang cock his Face Off within 8mm of his life. He'll think I'm a National Treasure and before our Honeymoon In Vegas is over I'll be Gone In 60 seconds!"

I'm not gonna lie. While it was uncomfortable to sit through Tranny Doctor's diatribe, I was equal parts amused and fascinated.

"So, 2 things doc." I responded.

"One - For a guy who hates Nicolas Cage you sure have seen a lot of his movies. Two - You lost your lisp have way through your rant."

Waiving his arms in a giant circular motion and inching closer with an intense gaze he replied.

"One - The lisp is my source of power. It's how I got Beverly Hills Cop in trouble. TWO - Have you seen his work in Con Air? A cajun army ranger with a mullet. Tour de force my friend... tour de force."

As much as I wanted to learn more about his obsession with the Wicker Man, there were bigger fish to fry.

"Wait a minute. You said your powers only work on Bonaduce, Dr. Doolittle and Ghost Rider. So why are you lisping at me? You... are ... not my doctor are you?"

He shrugged his shoulders and with a coy smile, pointed at the door across the way.

"Your doctor is across the hall. I'm here 'cause a certain someone played Daddy Day Care with my man junk until it was raw."

This confession triggered my crossing card stance. With one hand halting him and the other reaching for the door knob, I walked backwards towards the door, never once releasing my intense Judo stare. Ready to use my Yellow Belt tactics at any time.

Safe now. I made my across the hall.

"So doc... whats my SuperPower?"

TO BE CONTINUED

2010-02-19T11:35:00.000-08:00

Today is Cathy’s Birthday.

I once gave a very long, mildly accurate, speech and puppet show at her wedding.

She took it with a smile.

With a Jetson friendship comes Jetson family. As such, my brother and sister-in-law were subsequently invited to her wedding. As part of their wedding gift to her, my sister-in-law did a barrel roll down the hill in front of a packed house… on purpose.

Not to be outdone, my brother snuck in moonshine for all to drink. It was open bar. Who sneaks in moonshine into an open bar? Sly Stamina that’s who!

Still though… Cathy was all smiles.

Throughout the years, I have made consistent and hilarious jokes about her stealing one of my best friends and moving to Vancouver.

Smile... and smile again she did.

One time, I made a penis shaped ice sculpture on the car parked in front of her house. Never did hear how that turned out… but I’m sure she probably smiled about that too.

So, on this day, it’s very fitting for me to wish her public birthday wishes! It's the least I can do for putting up with my shananagans.

For being a good sport and a great friend....

Happy Birthday Cathy!!!

Letters To Bump

2010-02-17T11:26:00.000-08:00

8am wake up. It’s my turn. 6 hours sleep is plenty. Your mom hands you over like that scene in Lion King when they present the cub to the world. Except there are no gazelles or giraffes or lions…. Just a dog with a flatulence problem.

We kiss. She treks up the stairs, closes the door, puts her ear plugs in and falls to sleep faster than turkey night at the nursing home.

It’s just me and you now. I watch Bear Grylls drink his own piss and gut a dead sheep so he can sleep in it. Sheeping bag. Classic.

You sleep. Peacefully.

You pass gas. You smile.

I do the finger test since I can’t smell. You are poope free and I am scot free from getting peed on…. for another hour at least.

You wake up while I’m falling asleep.

I wake up.

I make coffee.

You fall asleep.

Trickster!

I won’t fall for this again. I drink the coffee ‘till you wake up.

You are wide awake.

We stare at each other for the next half hour.

I stick out my tongue, you mirror this action. It’s not much… but I delight in the fact that you are already learning.

The Interview

2010-01-15T12:02:00.000-08:00

The fine folks at Textually Active have interviewed me about my experience as a first time dad. It's a train wreck... but well worth the read.

Check it out.

http://raeleigh.wordpress.com/2010/01/14/the-jetson-stamina-interview

Dear Bump

2010-01-11T13:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Bump,
Only a few days left until you decide when you want your Birthday to be. One day, when you're 90, the local news will ask you what it was like to grow up in the 2000's. My job is to ensure that your response starts with... "Well my childhood was Awesometastic..."

Doctor says you're healthy as can be... but we knew that. You're throwing more kicks and punches than Chris Brown in a lamborghini. I do my best to talk to you but mostly I just poke and shake your mom's belly to get a reaction.

There's a lot of humor in pregnancy. Your mom has taken to swearing like a dirty trucker all of a sudden. Who knew the Stork brought F-Bombs along with the baby. Watching her attempt to get out of bed twice a night to go pee is almost as funny as hearing her get back into bed. You'd think she just ran a marathon (while smoking) for the first time. Huff and Puff, Huff and Puff. "What is it contractions?" "No, I just had to pee" We just laugh about it.

Waking up at 3am just to laugh at the absurdity of child bearing is something that you won't get to experience for a while but believe me... its a moment to put on your bucket list.

Your mom hasn't been much for cravings, allthough yesterday she went for a Caramel Sundae at Mc Donalds. "Minus 30... I think I'll have an Ice Cream!" Of course, who wouldn't want to cool down.

I put in your car seat last week. It took 2 minutes. Two buckles that click into a seat belt hook. So easy, I would trust a drunk Monkey to do it. I must worn you however, you are dropping into a world where some parents attend a Car Seat Clinic to make this happen.

See you soon. It'll be Awesometastic.

Dad

Things I came across in 2009

2009-12-31T08:45:00.000-08:00

The rare white tiger's got nothing on the even rarer (word?)
White Tiger Shit Ticket Dispenser.

It's a thing of beauty and yes... I acquired it.

___________________________________________________________
I was so happy to hear that Goodlife finally went to the 24hr format.
I guess? kinda sorta? wha?

________________________________________________________________

The Jetson does spend a few hours in the sky and is always curious about the trifolds.
No Smoking!
NO BRIEFCASES!

__________________________________________
Airlines are multi billion dollar operations.
Why is it they can't spend $200 on a good graphic artist?

Advertising 101: Use images to reinforce the message.

Or, if you're in the airline industry, use images to deliver a different yet equally compelling message.

Step 1: Shoot bullets from your eyes through the window until smoke appears.

Step 2: Continue to shoot bullets until smoke becomes fire.

Step 3: Bullets will eventually transform fire into debris.

_________________________________
Just remember ladies...

There's always a chance that a black man will try for third base as you exit the plane.
Don't count on Conan O'Brien for help as he will be running away.

_____________________________________
Put your oxygen mask on first...
Then make sure the dad from Little People, Big World is taken care of.

Letters To Bump

2009-12-31T08:33:00.000-08:00

Dear Bump,
We're less than a month away now. Soon you will be breathing fresh air and asking us why we chose the Chico Cortina Stroller over the more popular Graco Quattro Tour and I will simply say, "I don't know son, ask your mother."

I've got my catcher's mit, so anytime you want out, I'll be waiting for you. Your mom has spent countless hours stairing at her belly and getting everything ready for you these the last 9 months so don't forget to pick up flowers on your way out.

Love,

Dad

Letters To Bump

2009-09-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

Dear Bump,
I just finished watching an episode of Laurel & Hardy. They wrapped up the story with this little gem. “The Moral of the story is, never beat a child on an empty stomach”

This line seemed to come out of nowhere, spoken by a child actor who had nothing to do with the story. It was like the director needed a punch line to conclude the story. That was the line he chose?!?

It was odd and spectacular and wrong all it once. It was also... hilarious!

As I’m sure I will tell you often; If it’s funny, it’s funny. When it comes to humor, your only concern should be to know how your laughter may affect others and when it’s appropriate to laugh out loud.

Never let anyone tell you that you can’t find something funny. Humor isn’t just about laughter. Sometimes it allows us to live through the pain we were living in.

We’re off to watch you do back flips in the placenta. Soon we’ll know if you’ve got girly bits or if you're smuggling an anaconda.

See you soon.

Hot or Not

2009-08-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

Regardless / Using irregardless to mean regardless.

Tom Waits Songs / Covers of Tom Wait songs

Creed Reunion / Creed break-up (The greater of two evils that ensures the propagation of more creed-like bands)

Cassius Marcellus Coolidge, painted “Dogs Playing Poker”/ NGC Curator who dedicated an entire room to a con artist and his two boulders.

Justin Bateman / Bale as Batman

Because / Using “for the simple fact that” to mean because.

East Coast Accents / Straight Out Compton Ontario Accents

Infomercials / Commercials

Poontang / Tang

Pants. Normal pants / Skinny jeans

Fireplaces / Natural Gas Faux-Fireplaces (impostor!)

Actual News / News tickers that distract me from listening to the news

Canadian health care / Americans that claim I'm unhappy with my health care.

Dear Bump

2009-08-26T17:23:00.001-07:00

Dear Bump,its 7:41 am. Your mom is in the bedroom and wherever she goes, you go. Get used to it, I suspect you’ll want to be around her even when you’re not umbilically contracted to do so. She’s pretty fun and she’s one of only a handful of people who will always have your best interest at heart

We’re at the boss’ cottage today. I am buried in the corner of the most comfortable sectional ever. It’s like a bog of pillows and blankets and you just have to trust that when you sit down, your head will stay above ground level. I’ve never been hugged by Della Reese, but I suspect it would feel like this couch does.

The view here is quite striking, a tree fort overlooking the lake. There are four loons on the lake this morning; it’s like watching an episode of The View. They’re all talking at once and none of it makes any sense.

It’s the second coolest thing that happened to me this week. I felt you kick a few days ago... I had my hand on your mom’s tummy and your foot ran up the palm of my hand I pictured you doing calisthenics to pass the time. Not everyone feels the baby kick at 19 weeks but I expected it.

Karma’s had it in for me since 77, and I’m pretty excited to pay it back with interest.

You’re going to be a handful.

Whiskey

2009-08-20T06:57:00.000-07:00

Whiskey. I didn’t buy you. I rented you for a few hours.

Whiskey. I picked you up at the liquor store and dropped you off in the police station parking lot.

Whiskey. You are the reason the 20 minute car ride home took 90 minutes but felt like 10 hours. Like sitting through a Wayans Brothers comedy.

Whiskey. I will never eat a hotdog ever again because of you.

Whiskey. You are the reason Mrs. Stamina gave me a concussion while shoving my head out the car window.

Whiskey. You are 1956 Renault Dauphine. 0 to 60 in 32 seconds. It takes you a while to get going… and once you do, nobody wants to be around you.

Whiskey. I broke a rocking lawn chair because of you. A two-seater. Come to think of it…. I should blame the hotdogs for that one.

Whiskey. I wasn’t dry heaving. I was practicing my Mountain Gorilla mating call.

Whiskey. You turned my poo into roofing tar.

Whiskey. I feel like a Mountain Gorilla raped me.

Whiskey. You seemed so affordable in the store and yet, I felt like I kept paying for you.

Whiskey. You are the reason I took a brief nap on the front lawn of a perfectly planned community with nature in mind.

Whiskey. They should make perfectly planned communities with alcoholics in mind.

Whiskey. You are the reason I asked the Pharmacist for a morning after pill when what I really wanted was a hangover pill I can take in the morning.

Whiskey. You ruin Sundays… but for a few fleeting moments, your Saturdays are pretty glorious.

Whiskey. Tell all the kids at the birthday party that Uncle Jetson doesn’t feel like playing soccer on the hottest Sunday in August.

Whiskey. Oh we will meet again… but next time things will be different.

THE HILL

2009-08-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

There was a time when I landscaped for the uber-rich. One particularly wealthy couple had a master bedroom that was a completely separate wing of their home. It was a giant edifice constructed on a 40ft elevation, surrounded by a hill with a 45-degree angle. We knew it simply as The Hill. The most feared place to mow in all of Rockliffe Park.

Every Friday at 3pm, it was my job to mow The Hill. Rain or shine. It was so steep that it could not be tackled vertically. Instead, it had to be mowed in a horizontal pattern like one of those spiral mountain paths in a children’s book.

I dreaded The Hill. I mean I really f%cking dreaded The Hill.

Not because of the wicked-bad burn in my quadriceps but because it was a mind field of dog feces. Allow me to better explain in a tasteful Haiku.

5 pure bread doggies
On A Eukanuba diet
Shitting on a hill

The Hill was a very contentious area for the staff. Housekeeping believed that it was Landscaping’s job to clean up the shit and vice versa. As a result, the shitstacles (or poo obstacles) grew exponentially until it was pretty much a public health issue.

Still though, Friday at 3pm. Rain or shine. Jetson Vs. The Hill.

The last time I ever mowed The Hill was on a rainy day in September of 1993.

I set the mower high enough so as to skip over the heaping piles of wet dog shit. Prior to mowing The Hill on that fateful afternoon, I believed that mulching wet dog shit and sending it flying into the hemisphere in a mist of brown rain was the worse thing that could happen to me.

This was not the case.

I began the long spiral climb up to the top. Hovering over every turd and if necessary, maneuvering around them like traffic cones. Except the traffic cones looked more like small piles of severed guerrilla fingers.

I was to be king of The Hill. It should have been a glorious day.

However, on my second last run, a mere 2ft from the top of The Hill, tragedy struck. The back wheel of my mower hit a small piece of shit, sending the mower into a fish tail. I tried to steady it but lost my footing and ended up ass over tea kettle.

My back hit the ground so hard, it was like being punched in the chest from the inside out.

As I layed there trying to catch my breath, I realised that I had not settled on a single piece of Eukanuba brown. For a brief moment, I truly believed that it was some kind of cosmic intervention but was quickly reminded that I was simply the benefactor of some positive happenstance.

Alas, my luck ended only 2 feet from the top the dreaded Hill. The grass was simply too wet and the hill too steep to prevent the inevitable.

I began to slide down the hill in slow motion. Heals dug into the wet soil, fingers grabbing desperately on to tufts of freshly cut grass. Oh the horror, as I drifted downward, slowly collecting every pile of soggy beige dog shit.

On my hands, in the crucks of my arm pits and up inside my pant legs. It was like a coprophiliac's version of a Slip N' Slide. No area was spared.

20 minutes later, I was in the Mr. Gas parking lot in nothing but a pair Costco brand underwear getting hosed down by freezing cold water and trying not to make eye contact with any of the other crew members.

...and that's the story about the last time I ever took shit from anyone.

Black Market Life Lesson #889

2009-08-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

The solitaire who never took off his blue blockers died of jaundice. Learning to look at things differently, could one day save your life.

Dear Bump

2009-08-09T06:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Bump
I'm sorry that you're not out yet. We could have spent the morning watching a CNBC analyst talk about the intricacies of ice cream. I'm sure you would have enjoyed this, since it seems to be all your mom wants to eat.

This world is a fantastically odd place and you can be cheerful or curmudgeon about it. I suppose my job is to make you see the good in everything. I can do that. It's kind of my thing.

The hard part will be making sure that you'll never turn a blind eye to the bad.

The morning after I found out about you, I started writing an extensive list of everything I know about life. A handbook of sorts, that I hope to refer to as a refresher from time to time. I just want to get this right.

See you soon kid.

Ocean Fontaine

2009-08-06T06:18:00.000-07:00

If I were an exotic dancer, my name would be Ocean Fontaine.

My first song would be Lionel Richie's "Stuck On You". I would come out as the Hazmat Lady and instead of disrobing, I would put on a pair of industrial rubber gloves and a multi purpose respirator.

First I would swab the pole for samples. Then for my finale, I would scrub the floor incessantly and cordon off the area with yellow hazard tape.

For my second act, I would give up the goods.

I'd come out to Warren Zevon's "Werewolves Of London" and I would disrobe immediately to expose nothing but boy shorts and penny loafers.

I'd turn my back to the crowd and show off the word "Juicy" shaved into my lower back. Then I'd flex my butt cheeks in an alternating pattern. It would be mesmerising. Like an invisible midget pugilist, using my ass as a punching bag. Left hook. Right hook. Left hook. Right hook. Bam!

I would lay a blanket on the floor. This blanket would have a pool table, silkscreened on it. The edges carefully bedazzled by yours truly.

My act would consist of the "The Break", the "Scratch" and the excruciatingly painful "Brown ball Corner Pocket".

I would then roll over on all fours. With one hand holding my stomach in pain, I'd limp around the stage like a wounded Werewolf. Holding a penny loafer in my free hand, I would beg for change from the degenerates in pervert row.

Singing and crying at the same time.

Ahhhh Ewww Werewolves Of London.
Ahhhh Ewww Werewolves Of London.

With the change, I would buy a back-alley boob job.

2009-08-03T07:56:00.001-07:00

BLACK MARKET LIFE LESSON #664

Sometimes the only difference between a child and an adult is how many keys are on the chain. Just because responsibility is given, doesn’t mean it’s taken.

The W

2009-08-03T06:15:00.001-07:00

This is Hank.

This is the face Hank makes when he wants to go for a "W".

If you are a dog person, you understand that "W" means Walk. In fact you've probably conditioned yourself to never say the word. Last week, one of my clients asked me what I had planned for the weekend. "Nothing much, I think we'll be heading to Chelsea for a nice long W." I said without missing a beat. He laughed and asked me what kind of dog I had.

If you are not a dog person, here's something you should know should you consider getting one.

Dog's are assholes when it comes to the W. (Also known as Dub, W.A.L.K or Marche in the Stamina household. )

When in comes to the W. Dogs have a way of positioning themselves in your peripheral and staring at you with hurt in their eyes. If you manage to avoid the affixed gaze. They will sigh deeply until you've either given in or your cold black heart explodes.

Yesterday, my cold black heart exploded. As it does on virtually every sunny day. Even assholes don't like to walk in the rain. At least not Hank.

The thing about Hank is, despite being an asshole, he's a moment maker.

Yesterday we headed to the Gatineau Hills for a nice log W and I captured this shot.

Portrait of my hot pregnant wife walking my asshole dog

There are things in life for which we aspire. A loving wife. A dog. A child on the way. We create blurry images in our minds of what we think these things will look like.

Sometimes, if we're lucky, a photograph will capture these aspirations and bring the blurry images into crystal clear focus.

... and all because of my asshole dog.

Be back later. Gone for a W.

2009-07-29T08:43:00.000-07:00

Man eaters. The both of ‘em.

Darryl Hall tells me my kiss is on his list. Though we’ve never met, he speaks to me through the speakers of my wagon. I make it clear to him that I can’t go for that, no can do.

What can I say, I like the ladies. I’m into rich girls who rely on the old man’s money. It’s a love TKO … every time.

I pull over. Time to put liquid hay in the big metal horse. Still then, Darryl makes every attempt to woo me through the windows with his velveteen faux-town swagger. Johnny Oates echos his sentiment but I don’t believe him for a second. Like Alex Trebek and Magnum P.I. before him, nothing he says carries any weight without the mustache.

What can I say Oates, you're out of touch and I'm out of time. But alas… I'm out of my head when you're not around.

Damn you Oates. Damn you Hall. Damn you both to hell.

I may let your adult contemporary ballad rock fill my automobile… but I’ll be damned if anyone has to know about it.

2009-07-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

Black Market Life Lesson #121:

If you must fart, always do so in an area where the fart and those surrounding the fart have a way of escaping. Farting in confined areas can create a fight or flight response in the receiver causing undue stress and potential violence to all those involved. The unfortunate thing about a fart is that there is no scientific way of predicting just how offensive it will be until it’s too late. Avoid cars, elevators and cargo crates. Long flights are the exception to this rule. In this case, if a fart is imminent, wait until the beverage cart has passed and promptly blame it on the flight attendant.

2009-07-27T09:03:00.000-07:00

People ask me if i'm excited.

Does Peter Pan watch Tinkerbell shower? Likely.
Does Batman slide down the pole first just to get a good look at Robin's Poo-Nan? The Val Kilmer one, YES.
Do Panda's poope Oreo cookies? YES.
Had Freddy Krueger been able to masterbate without consequence, would he have killed anyone? YES. But after a nap.

2009-07-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

And so it shall be... The Staminas are expecting their first.

I see this little being floating around inside this beautiful wife of mine. Suddenly I think to myself, "Everything before this was just rehearsal wasn't it?"

Fridays...

2009-07-23T10:55:00.000-07:00

Doing a whole lout of nothing with Mrs. Stamina and Handsome on a friday afternoon is a lot like doing a whole lot of something.

Memories

2009-07-15T07:09:00.000-07:00

Who sneaks in $300 worth of liquor to an open-bar wedding? The Jetson's brother that's who.
My sister-in-law roled down a hill in her dress... on purpose.
Reffering to an Englishman as an Australian and yellin' "Gooday' Mate" all night, seemed a lot funnier at the time.
It turns out that Tommy Boy is a good movie to watch while getting ready for a wedding.
I caught a girl knitting during the speeches. When the speeches were over, she had half a scarf done. It was 30 degrees that day... but you never know when a blizzard might hit.
Who entices wedding patrons to sneak behind the tent and try some authentic moonshine? The Jetson's brother that's who.

2009-04-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

Black Market Life Lesson #339

2009-04-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

Throwing money at a problem is a lot like shitting in a toilet to stop it from overflowing. It presents you with a whole new set of problems.

2008-07-19T09:28:00.000-07:00

Huh...

Duhhh.... Buddies....

Somebody's gonna drop something... I just know it...

Layin out....

I am the destroyer of worlds...

Ladies can't resist this mug...

Penticton

2008-06-19T05:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Penticton,
Thank you for treating LBG and Team Awesome to a wonderful bachelor extravaganza. You are very nice this time of year. I enjoyed both of your lakes, despite their sub-zero temperature. I implore you to please do something about this, it was so cold little Jetson disappeared into his shell like a frightened turtle. With that said, your beach was nice. Not one used band-aid or dirty needle. Well done.

Penticton, thanks for all the personal touches you added to our trip. I enjoyed meeting the strippers at the Tim Hortons the next morning; it was nice to see that they’re people too.

Enjoying their coffee… fully clothed.

Thank you for allowing LBG to walk around in yellow fishnets and a pink tinsel sweater. Deep down he enjoyed it. Thank you also for crowning Sly Stamina as unofficial mayor of the city. He now knows all of your citizens by name and is well familiar with their back-story.

Kindest Regards,

Jetson

P.S. Your RV Park could use some cleaning up, maybe some patio lanterns or those lawn jockey statues that only I seem to find offensive.

2008-06-18T12:58:00.000-07:00

I have a shiner. A real nice black eye.

If you look at me neck-up from the right side... I look like a pre-op transvestite.

Awesome.

Too much time on my hands...

2008-04-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

Style vs. Warmth

2008-04-14T08:26:00.000-07:00

She’s late for work. She forgets her gloves. It’s cold. She runs back into the house to get her gloves. On her way to the bus stop she realizes that her gloves are not a matching pair. No time to run back home. Warmth prevails over style. She catches the bus and shakes her head at the folly.

It’s 4:30pm. Her shift is over. She waits at the bus stop with her mismatched pair of gloves. Glad that she ran back into the house this morning. Happy that warmth prevailed over style.

5pm. She gets off the bus. It’s cold. She reaches for her gloves.

No dice.

She turns around to see the bus putter away with her mismatched pair of gloves. Just like that, two perfectly good pairs of gloves… ruined.

She walks home. Hands buried deep in her pockets.

In the end... style prevailed over warmth.

Dog Poo Archeology

2008-04-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

Have been supplementing my fiber in take with Metamucil. I highly recommend this if you want to shit out gorilla fingers.
I saw I AM Legend last weekend. I kept hoping Uncle Phil would show up with an UZI with special zombie piercing bullets.
I like it here. I’d like to blog more. I’d like to have a lot more people read it and wonder… why did I just read that?
The snow is melting faster than the villain in Robocop who falls in toxic waste and then jumps in front of a car.
I spent a considerable amount of time last weekend getting reacquainted with the fascinating work of Dog Poo Archeology. The painstaking task of uncovering and bagging countless piles of dog crap remarkably well preserved under layers of Canadian snow.

Interobanged!

2008-01-16T07:08:00.000-08:00

Hey you! You might be wondering, what the hell just happened‽

Truth is…

You’ve been INTERROBANGED!

Oh Snap.

Brief History Of The Best Word Ever.

American Martin K. Speckter invented the interrobang in 1962. As the head of an advertising agency, Speckter believed that advertisements would look better if copywriters conveyed surprised rhetorical questions using a single mark. He proposed the interrobang (‽) A rarely used, nonstandard English-language punctuation mark intended to combine the functions of the question mark and the exclamation mark.

2008-01-16T06:40:00.000-08:00

A deer at dusk on the corner of an uphill road. Life’s greatest damages are caused by the things we never see coming.

2008-01-03T10:02:00.000-08:00

15 WAYS TO BE MORE
AWESOMER IN

2008

Say hello. The most powerful thing you can say to a person is not “I love you.” It’s “Hello”. Hello, is more than a greeting. It’s the first step in connecting to your surroundings and establishing community. Yet, sometime over the last 20 years we’ve gotten so caught up in our own devices that we’ve forgotten how to say it.

Don’t pay $80 for a pair of glorified jogging pants. Trust me, there’s a plenty of $30 pants that make your ass look just as good.
Quit complaining about gas prices. It’s like consenting to sodomy and then complaining that your ass hurts.
Take the stairs. Elevators are for people who enjoy bad music and uncomfortable silences.

Nobody cares that your fucking plane landed! So please wait until you’re off the plane to call and tell your buddies that you’re in a different city than you were 2 hours ago. I know dude. It’s mind blowing.

Quit being a charity conspiracy theorist. Even if you believe that only 20 cents of every dollar makes it to the intended destination. Imagine how many cents on ZERO dollars will help the cause you so vehemently believe in.

Take a different route to work every day. You’d be amazed at the kind of stuff you’d never see otherwise. Last week I saw 3 Ninjas playing backgammon in a wheat field. Red Ninja won, but was quickly beheaded. So. Shortsighted victory.

Start using cloth grocery bags. They’re environmentally friendly and, you’ll be amazed at how much room you have under your sink when all the plastic garbage bags have disappeared.

Drink water from the tap. The greatest marketing ploy of all time was convincing an entire continent of people that bottled water from someone else’s tap is better than yours.

Get your news from three different countries. Preferably ones that wouldn’t enjoy a picnic together.

Hug at least 1 homo this year. Do away with any residual homophobia you might have. There are plenty of things in this world for you to worry about. Who and how others love is not one of them.
Quit being a cell phone Douchebag. No one on the bus wants to hear about your infection, your crazy ex-wife or your close call with that Thai hooker who had an adams apple. Maybe its best to use your inside voice for these things.
Get off the phone when you’re driving. We all know you’re on the phone because you keep slowing down and speeding up and everyone is passing you on the right hand lane.

Offer your seat to the older gentleman on the bus. Think of it as paving the way for a pay off in 50 years from now. One day you’ll realize that the simple act of standing for an extended period of time is absolutely exhausting but you’ll be too proud to ask for a seat. Give yourself a high five when the kid in the droopy jeans stands up and offers his seat. Then tell the kid to pull is pants up.
Selfless acts are overrated. You’ll do more good in this world if you’re genuinely vested in the well being of others with the intention of feeling better about yourself and your place in this world.

No Word Of A Lie

2007-12-29T10:09:00.000-08:00

After three days of going without presents, we realised that Santa skipped our house. We were left with broken hearts and an an odd smell in the den. Come to find out, Santa crapped in our chimney and somehow... he spelled out "Naughty List" in bits of corn and peanuts.

CHRISTMAS

2007-12-24T11:06:00.000-08:00

I wonder if OJ Simpson gets leather gloves for Christmas?

If OJ was coming over for Christmas dinner, my Mom would get him a nice pair of gloves. Despite having a NO GIFT EXCHANGE policy, Mom gets my brother and me a pair of gloves every year.

Somewhere in lake Ontario, there’s a kid octopus whining to his mom “…but the Stamina kids get gloves every year and they only have two arms!”

(I have no idea if octopuses reside in the great lakes. “Octopuses” Best pluralization ever!)

And let’s do a 180…

To most, today is Christmas Eve, but for Jetson Stamina, it’s Christmas.

I suppose it has to do with my French Canadian roots. Christmas Eve has always been the main event in the Stamina household. Everyone gets a little boozie boozie, we joke around, maybe play some cards and jack the kids up on baked goods.

When Minou (French word for cat) was alive, we would chase her around the house and pull tinsel out of her ass, which made me feel dirty because she enjoyed every minute of it. Back arched to the ceiling, purring like sum’bitch. I read somewhere that 1 out of 10 men have experimented with beastiality.

I sometimes wonder if the tinsel incidents put me in that category. "CATegory". I’m on fire!

(Above is a depiction and not an actual photo of Jetson's cat.)

Let’s get back to the Stamina Christmas… (Staying the course is not something I do well.)

Christmas dinner is around 7pm. I spend this time making mash potatoe penis sculptures because by 6pm I’ve eaten my weight in cheese curds and petit-pain-fourres. (Little humped breads)

Around 10:58pm, everyone puts on their winter coats, giant boots, idiot-mitts, toques (warm hats for you Americans), thickest scarves and we get ready to go to 11pm mass. Since every adult is severely pinned on loud mouth soup well before 10pm, we discuss letting one of the kids drive.

While we all agree that this is a fantastic idea, it takes getting into the car to realize that a 6 year old is not nearly tall enough to reach the peddles.

So we walk it.

11:15pm, we show up late for mass. Mom gets the drunk-giggles and sis-in-law tries to explain the finer points of the service to my lovely wife whom is still unfamiliar with virgin birth in a barn and catholic Jesus who was Jew.

By 11:30 we’re all sweating profusely, partly because 1) We’re wearing 10 layers of winter gear and 2) we’re burning in hell for having caught the drunk-giggles with mom.

12pm, we rush home and spend the next two hours watching my nieces and nephews rip apart gift rap until their heads explode. Then the adults exchange gifts, ignoring the whole NO GIFT EXCHANGE policy.

So that’s Christmas at the Stamina’s. The next day I get to do it all over again on Mrs. Stamina’s side.

I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. I hope the spirit in which this holiday is intended is one that you take with you into 2008.

Kindest Regards,

Jetson Stamina

P.S. If you read this blog and want to be added to the blogroll, let me know.

LIFE IN A SUNBEAM

2007-12-19T10:43:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas. . . This is my best work and favorite 5 part series. I will leave it up for a week or so. If you like it, please forward it to friends.

Messing With Spammers
The Complete Saga By Jetson Stamina

THE PROPOSAL:

For anyone who's ever received this kind of spam,

this is well worth the read. Just skim the intro letter.
I highlighted the good parts.

DEAR FRIEND,
I AM ADAMS BELLO THE BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER AT THE FOREIGN REMITTANCE DEPARTMENT OF BANK OF AFRICA. I GOT YOUR CONTACT FROM THE INTERNET ,WHILE SEACHING FOR AN HONEST AND TRUST WORTHY PERSON, WHO WILL ASSIST ME TO IMPLEMENT THIS TRANSFER.

I DISCOVERED THE SUM OF TWENTY TWO MILLION AND FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS (USD22.5M) BELONGING TO A DECEASED CUSTOMER OF THIS BANK. THE FUND HAS BEEN LYING IN A SUSPENCE ACCOUNT WITHOUT ANYBODY COMING TO PUT CLAIM OVER THE MONEY SINCE THE ACCOUNT OWNER LATE MR SALLA KHATIF FROM LEBANESE , WHO WAS INVOLVED IN THE DECEMBER 25TH 2003 BENIN PLANE CRASH.

WE LEARNT THAT ALL HIS SUPPOSED NEXT OF KIN OR RELATION DIED ALONGSIDE WITH HIM AT THE PLANE CRASH LEAVING NOBODY BEHIND FOR THE CLAIM.

IT IS THEREFORE UPON THIS DISCOVERY THAT I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS BUSINESS PROPOSAL TO YOU AND RELEASE THE MONEY TO YOU AS THE NEXT OF KIN OR RELATION TO THE DECEASED FOR SAFETY AND SUBSEQUENT DISBURSEMENT SINCE NOBODY IS COMING FOR IT AND I DON'T WANT THIS MONEY TO GO INTO THE BANK TREASURY AS UNCLAIMED BILL.

THE REQUEST OF FOREIGNER AS NEXT OF KIN IN THIS BUSINESS IS OCCASSIONED BY THE FACT THAT THE CUSTOMER WAS A FOREIGNER AND A BURKINABE CANNOT STAND AS NEXT OF KIN TO A FOREIGNER. I THEREFORE SOLICITING FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE TO COME FORWARD AS THE NEXT OF KIN.

I HAVE AGREED THAT 40% OF THIS MONEY WILL BE FOR YOU AS THE BENEFICIARY IN RESPECT OF THE PROVISION OF YOUR ACCOUNT AND SERVICES RENDERED, 55% WOULD BE FOR ME WHILE 5% WILL BE FOR EXPENCSES INCURED DURING THE CAUSE OF THIS TRANSACTION IF THE MONEY IS TRANSFERRED TO YOUR ACCOUNT FROM BANK OF AFRICA, I AND MY FAMILY IN THIS TRANSACTION WILL PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO YOUR COUNTRY FOR OUR OWN SHARE OF THE MONEY. I EXPECT YOU TO KEEP THIS BUSINESS STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL AND SECRET AS YOU MAY WISH TO KNOW THAT I AM BANK OFFICIAL. I AM LOOKING FORWARD FOR YOUR PROMPT RESPONSE.

YOURS FAITHFULLY,

MR ADAMS BELLO.

JETSON’S REPLY #1:
The fun starts.

Dear Mr. Bello,
I am very excited about your proposition. However, I feel that I am taking much risk. In Canada this risk could mean electrocution by the chair for punishment. My brother was electrocuted and his hair looked like the Don King.

Therefore, I could agree to your proposal but only if I would receive 55% and you would receive 45%. I believe my risk is higher and deserve better dollars.

I expect our e-mail to be confidential as I am the captain of the Oilers and top scorer here. Please respond quickly as I am departing on business to Shagrotten, British Manitoba for 3 months.

Excited to make business inside you!

Best Regards,

Dr. Jetson Stamina

THE NEGOTIATION:
just skim, I highlighted the good parts.

Hello Dr. Jetson Stamina,

Thank you for your mail and I am happy to share this transaction with you, but you must keep everything as top secret and very confidential. This is a business that require 100% absolute secret, it is a business that you do not allow your right hand to know what your left hand is doing. Please are you capable to do this transaction with me.

As for the sharing i can see reason with you but let make it 50 _50.

Please understand that you and I myself, are to work as one team to inherit this fund, hence I am your insider in the bank as the transaction commence.i advise you to feel free with me for all is going to be well with us.

I want you to arrange for a good receiving bank account into which our bank shall transfer this money in your favour as next of kin and you have nothing to fear since I am here, I shall be giving you all the developmental information´s from the bank as soon as the transaction commence.

You have nothing to fear as your interest and identity will be legally protected.

As you know such a business will require international-transaction. So we both shall jointly combine our efforts financially in any expenses that shall incure in the process of this transaction.

On hearing very favourable from you, i shall send you by mail or fax, an Application Text,which you shall retype with your banking account details and send it through the bank email address to our foreign remittance Director of our bank immediately without delay so that the bank shall commence for the onward transfer of the fund into your account within (7) working official days as the beneficiary and inheritor of the fund into your nominated receiving bank account.

Note that i made a prayer on your behalf, before i decieded to contact you for this great deal and this is why i put my trust in you knowing fully well that you will assist me in this Transaction.

Thanks and God bless you.

Mr Adams Bello.

JETSON’S REPLY #2:
God is on our side. Let’s negotiate!

Hello Mr. Bello,
Thank you for your response quickly. God is on our side and his modem is faster for us! I will keep everything top secret. I am good at confidential. My brothers wife has my baby inside her and nobody knows because I believe in the top secret.

I hope you will keep your secret 100% also! I do not want to be imprisonned or killed!

Please can you confirm that your secret will be 100%. I can not accept that you hold your secret 90% because the other 10% could make me electrocuted on the chair in the prison. Also, I could be on fire from my job. I am a Dr. of the proctology and could lose my license to practice inside canadians.

Please confirm if 100% confidential is ok?

As for sharing, I was born in the Saskatchewan Mountains and we believe in the negotiation. Can we split the money 54% for me and 48% for you?

Again, please understand my risk is high. My wife will take my children and leave. I have 2 siamese children, they are always hugging. I love them. Do you have kids? This money will make them happy!

I am sorry to hear about MR. Salla khatif. It is sad the he had no family. Was he flying the plane or was the death by sky dive without parachute?

I will be ready to be a partner inside you, please can you answer all of the above questions?

Please reply VERY quickly!

Best Regards,

DR. Jetson Stamina

THE FRUSTRATION:
Mr. Adams wants to get down to business.

Hello Dr. Jetson,
It ok by me, you said 54% to you 48% to me which is over 100%, it should be 54% by 46%. Just go ahead and send the details information so that i can forward to you the text of application which you shall use in applying to the bank for the release of the fund to your bank account.

Thanks,

Mr Adams.

JETSON’S REPLY #3:

But Mr. Adams, can't we be friends?

Hello Mr. Adams,
So sorry for you to be frustrated with my questions. I want to make sure that I understand how to do this properly. I am glad we can agree on 54% to me and 48% to you. With this money I will start a new life and run away with my brother-in-laws wife! God believes in our love. We are meant to be. I believe this money is comming to you and me because God believes that we are justified. Like the timberlake. Thank You!

How shall we arrange the delivery of my share for the 22.5 million in USD?

I understand that you would like to mail. I fear this way is dangerous and I must 100% ensure confidentiality because I do not want jailification or worse Vandammage. The postman here is corrupt. They are like the chinese mafia, always dangerous with karate guns. I hate post man with their shorts and boots. Please can we arrange delivery without using the Mail?

I have funds available for via private Goodyear Zephyr. I could fly to meet you in Africa in two weeks if wind is good. This way we ensure face to face confidential. Only my pilot Robert Van Winkle will be in attendance. No corrupt postman!

As I understand it, I have to change last name to Khatif to ensure I am seen as next of kin, this is true?

Please send me your adresse and I can arrange for flight by next week.

God Bless You and thank you for chosing me!

Dr. Jetson Stamina

THE PLEADING:

It seems that spammers have a higher threshold for the absolutlely daft,

as long as it results in dollar bills y’all.

Dear friend,

Please. You can not just come down, you have to apply first before knowing how the bank will like to transfered the money. Just go ahead and send the details information so that i can forward to you the text of application which you shall use in applying to the bank for the release of the fund to your bank account.

Thanks,

Mr Adams.

JETSON’S REPLY #4:

Let’s try quoting a song, give’m some details and

ask if we can become business partners.

Dear Mr. Adams,
I am sorry, in the previous correspondence I was missed steak. I am ready for the money. I am ready so much! My brother-in-laws wife is happy that you are doing this for our love! We are like one.

Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed, Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed. I say love is like downs syndrome, it leaves you silly in a cage away from society, yes?

I want to know something. After we become full of money. Can we be business partners?

I want to start business in Africa with you. Canada is no longer safe with the Inuit Ski-Doo Gangs threatening our city. I have 20 year experience as Doctor of Proctology. I am an excrement business man! Can we be partners? Yes?

Ok on to business at hand...

Here are my DETAILS, please keep my details 100% confidential.

Height: 6 ft 1”
Weight: 243lbs
Eyes: Blue (some say so blue you see my soul)
Skin: Cock and asian
Hair: Salt n Peppah
Age: 30/02/69
Status: Married (but maybe we write single because I will end her, for good!, after the money comes)
Occupation: Dr. Of Proctology

I believe these are all my details. Please let me know if I forgot some details.

Thank You!

Dr. Jetson Stamina

P.S. Can we be friends and business partners? Please answer, this is important to my life.

THE URGENCY:
Every good salesman puts a deadline on an offer.
Skim, I highlighted the good parts.

Hello brother,

Many thanks for your reply and also your mail, I want to promise you that as far as i am concerned,we dont have any time to wast in archieving this goal as soon as the bank managment has approved you as the real next of kin to MR. SALLA KHATIF .

Meanwhile,Just as I promise you that i will compose an application of claim on which you will send to the bank management for the approval of the fund into your account just as soon as i have heard from you, Find below the application.

Please I have put the trust in you with hope that you will not batryed me at the end. Please i want you to asured me very well that nothing is going to heppen with my own share till i come over with my family to stay and invest based on your advise.I would like you to fill in the gap and send to the bank by email or fax below and also forward a copy to me .

I still want to assure you again that you have nothing to loose in helping me get this done.We will laugh together at the end maybe in your country or whereever you will advise me to invest my own share of this fund.

Fill the below application urgently and then fax or email to the bank using the information below.I will be waiting to hear from you as soon as you have sent it by calling me on phone to enable me know that you have sent the text to the bank..

Thanks and regards to you

Mr Adams.

BLAH BLAH BLAH... an application followed.

REPLY #5:
Preparing the home for your guests and ensuring that
the proper forms have been filled out.

Dear MR. Adams,
Thank you for re-writing with me. You are coming to America! Land of the Hasselhoff and of the free. I am excited soo much it is yellow in my boxer for you to live with my loving family and my manatee like life draining wife!

In preparation for your arrival, I have commanded her to prepare the crawl space for you and your family to live. It is beautiful now with corregated box and packing foam for sleep. It is also a final resting place for many street youth I encountered after rye binge, but limestone has made it smell new and fantastic!

A dugeon fit for a Kink. All for you.

When the money cum. It will be happy money. It will need towel.

I have received your application details, but I must wait for my name to be changed to the name of MR. SALLA KHATIF. If I am going to disguise myself for imposter. I must have his name to get the 22 Billion that we will share.

BEFORE I CAN FILL OUT THE APPLICATION MY BANK TRUSTEE HAS ASKED ME TO GIVE YOU THIS QUESTIONNAIRE THAT I MUST HAVE BEFORE YOUR APPLICATION CAN BE FILLED IN THE BILLY BLANKS. PLEASE FILL OUT ASAP.

I will keep 90% confidential.

1- Name:
2- Country Of Origin:
2a- Date Of Conception:
3- Sex:
4- Sexual Orientation (cocoa starfish or pink canoe?):
5- How many wifes?
6- How many children?
7- Occupation?
8-Relation to Mr. Stamina?
9-Will you help Mr. Stamina burry first wife at cottage?
10- How many wild animals do you intend to bring to America?
10a – If so, Will your monkeys be in a barrel?

PLEASE FILL OUT, THIS IS FOR CONFIDENTIAL TRUSTEE INFORMATION. I MUST HAVE BEFORE APPLICATION.

MR. ADAMS. I Feel that we are getting close, like the mountain near brokeback! We will soon both be full of money. I am looking forward to making giant business inside of you!

Your Best Friend and Life Partner,

Dr. Jetson Stamina

P.S. I must tell you in advance, last night night the manatee clogged the plumbing with giant brown cobra with corn and peanut skin. This went into crawl space. But more limestone = Less visit by police. Yes?

THE END -
The correspondence ended here.

Maybe he didn’t want to help bury my fictitious wife in the crawl space. Maybe he realised that my brother-in-law’s wife is in fact my sister and sharing 22 billion with an incestuous Doctor was immoral.

Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe not hard enough. Maybe it was beginning to look like too much work to share 22 Billion dollars with Dr. Jetson Stamina or maybe he realised that I was in fact a WOLF in SHEEP’s clothing.

. . . or a A Badger in a Bear suit.

You’d think that once you get close enough, you’d be like, Oh Thank God, that’s just a bear costume and not an actual bear. Then the bear suit comes off and it’s a fucking Badger and you’re like, Fuck me, where does a badger find a bear suit at this time of night?

So now the badger’s on top of you and you’re just protecting your eyes, 'cause you figure, He can disfigure me, but at least I’ll still have my sight.

So he mangles you a bit and after a while, he get’s bored, puts the bear suit back on, get’s into his 1987 Plymouth Sundance and drives away.

The moral of the story here is this. . .

A badger that can drive a car while wearing a bear suit is more dangerous than a wolf.

I digress. . .

This marks the end of my business relationship with Mr. Adams. Thank you for reading.

Your comments would be greatly appreciated.

Best Regards,

The Jetson

Genetic Compromise

2007-12-18T11:51:00.001-08:00

Last night, US presidential candidate Mike Huckabee was on Larry King. Later, they added Chuck Norris to the panel. Norris is Huckabee’s biggest celebrity supporter. If Van Damme endorses Obama and MR.T endorses Clinton I am moving to Kansas. That’s the kind of America that I want to live right smack dab in the middle of.
It just occurred to me, Chuck Norris should star in Dog The Bounty Hunter’s Bio-pic.
I’m a seven. My wife is a nine. If all goes well, we will one day make little baby Eights. It’s a healthy genetic compromise.
Today I won at foosball. I punctuated my victory with a little dance I like to call The Robot Of Awesomeness. The robot part needs some work but the awesomeness was right on par.
Last night I boiled spaghetti noodles, mixed in some raclette cheese with chicken cold cuts and peppered the whole thing with parmesan cheese. It was a gourmet masterpiece. Truly something that Chuck Norris would endorse.

I invite you to delurk and comment.

And yeah. . .

2007-12-10T11:22:00.000-08:00

I realized this morning that I*ve been randomly naming certain trees on may way to work. Mostly lone trees in open fields. There*s Newton and Chris near the barn, Otis in the corn field and Candy near the creek.
I am a psychiatrists dream.
When I was a kid, I use to think if I stuck my head out the car window and tried to swallow more air that I would live longer.
I often get the urge to smash my co-workers crackers at lunch. Just smash*em. Smash! Smash! Smash! I feel better just talkin* bout it.
I can’t watch juggling without thinking of my wife. On our 3rd or 4th date, Mrs. Stamina walked out of the room only to return a minute later juggling 4 official looking juggling balls. The randomness of it is forever etched in my psyche.

I dump used coffee grinds down my sink every morning. I like to keep my sink alert and he*s not a morning person. In fact, he*s a bit of an arsehole until you get to know him.

Discuss.

2007-12-10T08:34:00.000-08:00

I believe that if you study Alcohol Prohibition in the United States and Canada and the subsequent repeal of these Dry Laws, you could make a case for repealing the current Drug Prohibition.

I find it hard to believe that we would rather our citizens consume unregulated and untested drugs from criminal sources rather than properly monitored and price regulated drugs dispensed from vendors with permits who will not sell to children under the age of majority.

Would you rather your kids sneak out of the house to drink moonshine and absinthe with their friends or Molson and Crown Royal?

What good is family if you don't take advantage of free labour

2007-11-26T10:01:00.000-08:00

This weekend, Mattman and the Big Bros helped me install new hardwood floors. What a pain in the coccyx. All that kneeling and standing, kneeling and standing. It was like being at church except you have to pay attention. . . and you don*t line up for a cracker at the end of it.

It occurred to me that little people would be perfectly suited to make a healthy living at floor installation. They*re low to the ground and very aerodynamic, which would allow them to install floors at 20 times the rate of oversized humans.

Plus, little people are space-efficient. So you can squeeze 50-60 of them in a small living room and have floors down in 15 minutes.

Think of a school of piranhas on a zebra crossing the river. Except the piranhas are little people, the zebras are floors and they*re putting things together not ripping them apart.

You get the gist.

Side Note: You can create an aerial view of cockandballs by simply adding a wang to the number 8

First Person Party

2007-11-14T09:10:00.001-08:00

My socks never match. I believe that matching socks threaten some galactic paradigm of which I have no understanding.
I just used the word paradigm to sound smart.
I rarely floss.
My wife*s a hygienist.
I buy most of my clothes from the clearance rack at Winners.
I used to think I was a bad dancer. I*m still right. Ever see a 4-year-old sort of bounce his way through a song? That*s how I dance. Bouncing around like a 5ft 11inch baby with a five o*clock shadow.
I lied. I*m 5ft 10in.
I once made a girl believe that Macadamia was a continent. She was nuts.
(Awesome pun! high-five-myself-no-friends)
In high school, I caused the demise of Lumber*s red Volvo by convincing him that the girl he would marry was in the car ahead of us. All he had to do was floor it and avoid the rattling sounds of the motor. We hitchhiked home.
The first Jew I ever met was a kind gentleman who picked Lumber and I up during my first hitchhike. (See above) During that ride, he repeatedly offered us bagels and punctuated each sentence by saying No charge, no charge. He also spent a considerable amount of time on his cell phone telling the person on the other line to Sue him. It*s his porch. He should have put salt down. Sue him. No word of a lie.
While I do believe that stereotypes are utterly ridiculous. I find it absolutely side-splitting when they are inadvertently reinforced.
I*ve never held a wiffle bat that I didn*t swing at someone.
On the day of the Asian tsunami, one of my first thoughts was, I wonder if there*s a sponge factory in Phuket.
From the 9th to 11th grade, I saw exactly 2 vaginas. Both were owned and operated by my math and english teachers.

Here*s a random list of people I believe deserve a punch in the face.

People who shit on the toilet seat at work. There*s one in every office. I have strong suspicion that there*s sub species of humans who shit out of their hips and balls, which is the only possible way you can get that much crap on a lid.
Guy who invented the Hummer.
Guy who purchases a Hummer for anything other then off-roading or some form of military combat.
Hitler.
Lady who was smoking on Parliament Hill during the moment of silence on rememberance day.
Keanu Reeves in a serious role.
All of the Popples. Stuffed animals that can store unlimited amounts of junk in their pouches. A cartoon metaphore for drug mules design to appeal to a whole new generation of children. You could*ve been something Puzzle Popple. You were going to change the world.

That is all.

Remembrance Day

2007-11-11T06:20:00.000-08:00

Today we remember
Why every day we benefit.

PANDAMONIUM!

2007-11-05T13:04:00.000-08:00

At one time, watching Pat & Cathy was a lot like watching two circus pandas fuck up a unicycle high-wire trick. You just knew that once they got it right, you*d be witnessing something pretty special.

(Shown here. Panda tries to play Hop Scotch but misses)

Pandas are a funny species.

As any biologist will tell you, Pandas are rare motherfuckers and therefore lack interaction with their own kind.

In fact, many Pandas believe they are entirely unique and for this reason, relegate to shacking up with Kodiak Bears that fake ultrasounds in hopes of tricking said Panda into doing right by his baby momma so that they*ll stay together in a low rent apartment near the Ikea.

Bear with me. . .

(Awesome Pun! High-Five-Myself-No-Friends)

The point I*m trying to make here is this. . .

Eventually and often with impeccably bad timing, every Panda comes face to face with something they weren*t expecting to find. . . an equally rare mate.

From then on, no matter what the obstacle, its just a matter of time before they master the unicycle high-wire trick.

On Friday, Pat & Cathy flew in from BC to announce they*re engagement.
This is my way of saying congratulations to you both!

It*s like seeing your little bald brother grow up and marry someone much better looking then he is.

True Story

2007-10-31T06:09:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday morning I woke myself up with a record breaking minute long fart that rumbled like I was pushing a kitchen table across a linoleum floor.

Happy Holloween.

Ludlowe Studebaker Is Special

2007-10-24T07:45:00.000-07:00

In another life my name was Ludlowe Studebaker. In 1821 I was confined to a mental institution near Kingston Ontario because I believed I had the power to harness low levels of electricity but only when wearing a certain pair of shoes on specific kind of carpet.

The official diagnosis for my condition was Bat-Shit Crazy

Several years later I was eventually released. . . not necessarily because I wasn*t Bat-Shit Crazy but because I learned that the difference between a Ninja and a grown man in black pajamas and a ski mask is stealth.

Sometimes, as long as you know in your heart what the truth is, it*s best to lay low and avoid detection until others come to the same realization.

So truth took the long way home. . .

and 100 years later, children in school libraries across North America were rubbing their feet on the carpet and giving their friends the Ludlowe Studebaker Static Shock Special.

Happy Birthday Mrs. Stamina

2007-10-12T08:04:00.000-07:00

Today is my wife*s birthday. She*s the first lady of Awesome Town and just about the best damn part of my day. I think the difference between a happy marriage and the brink of divorce is whether you*re more excited about coming home or leaving it.

And every night I look forward to coming home to the girl who. . .

Used to shoot pellet guns at her grand parents.
Jumps off the teeter-totter mid-air because a teeter-totter rebound in the balls is funner than the actual act of teeter-tottering.
Holds my hand when I pass out in the bathtub.
Uses baking as a form of therapy.
Despite having hundreds of seating possibilities, chooses the stairs to talk to her sister for hours.
Crafts home made cards because Hallmark cards come from the wallet and home made cards come from the heart.

There are times when, despite my best efforts, I can*t quite convey how I feel about Mrs. Stamina. In those times, I look to the lyrical stylings of Mr. Lionel Ritchie. This morning, the lyrics in the outro to Dancing On The Ceiling seems to sum things up nicely.

Hard to keep your feet on the ground
Because when we like to ball it
We only want to get down
What? you say what?
It*s love now.

Thank you Lionel. You*ve done it again.

Every year I struggle with the same dilemma. Gift giving can be a difficult son-of-a-bitch.

Here*s a universal truth. . .

Gift Givers often struggle with gift selection because they want said object to be an expression of how they truly feel about the Gift Receiver.

A frying pan and a mix tape doesn*t exactly translate to . . .

I love you. Thanks for the being the ballast in my life. Happy Birthday!

So, I can only hope that the words will be enough.

P.S. This is my way of saying, I love you. Thanks for the being the ballast in my life. Happy Birthday! I didn*t buy you anything.

Happy Birthday Dr. Kilts

2007-09-26T08:29:00.000-07:00

Today is Dr. Kilts* Birthday.

I can tell you with the confidence of an NBA player at a midget basketball tournament that Dr Kilts* is among the coolest people I know.

Not like the all-show-and-no-go of cheerleader cool, far from it.

She*s cool like two Ninjas hanging out in their Trans-Am outside a Loverboy concert. A random series of elements that come together to form a cataclysmic nova of coolness that can only be explained when you*ve had the pleasure of witnessing it. (This sentence is ridiculous)

So how cool is Dr. Kilts?

She gets a severe allergic reaction at the very sight of my dog and yet, when our backs were against the wall and we needed a dog sitter, Dr. Kilts walked Hank twice a day.

One minute. . .
She can wax eloquent about the recidivism rates of young offenders, the much needed reform of the penal system (I said penal hehe), and the elements of psychopathy that led in part to one of the most infamous murders in Canadian history.

The next minute . . .
She can laugh at my clever joke involving coprophilia.

So today, we let her know she*s special and that we*re happy to have her in our lives. Most of all, we wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

MESSIN* WITH THE CHECK IN DESK

2007-08-14T08:31:00.000-07:00

MESSIN* WITH THE CHECK IN DESK
By: Jetson Stamina

Concierge: The hotel does allow, pets. So if you have pets please let us know and we will provide you with a pet friendly room. A $40 flat rate will apply.

Jetson: Any pets?

Concierge: Yes, pretty much any pet.

Jetson: What about a monkey?

Concierge: We*ve never had this request before, but if its in a cage I suppose that would be ok. (Smiles)

Jetson: What about a horse?

Concierge: (pauses. thinks.) There*s a 100lbs limit, so horses would not qualify.

Jetson: But a miniature Shetland Pony would be ok then right?

Concierge: (shakes head) I guess. . . I*m not sure. . . that*s an interesting question. . . I umm

(Jetson leaves for a few minutes, an re-enters the room)

Jetson: What about a badger?

Concierge: A Badger?! Well. . .

Mattman: Ok man, that*s enough, settle down.

Jetson: No seriously, I need to know, cause LBG sitting in the truck with the Badger and its about to fuckin* crazy.

RCMPAT BACHELOR PARTY: PART ONE

2007-08-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

RCMPAT BACHELOR PARTY WEEKEND EXTRAVAGANZA
PART ONE: PRE-PARTY-PREP

Lumber and Roach make out session at the airport. Like watching 2 teenagers leaving each other for summer camp.

Watching Mattman, who works at Canada Border Services, go through a security check point, over and over and over again like a nervous drug smuggler with a 2 kilos balloon of crank sitting in his lower intestine.

Amazingly, they did not ask to see the three tin foiled bricks in Mattman*s back.

Banana bread hit the spot.

Crapping my pants for 6 hours on the plane and allowing the baby in row 12C to take the blame. Granola And Yogurt Vs. The Jetson. Nobody wins.

Trading seats with the girl in a schoolgirl miniskirt just to sit with the boys. Like trading eye candy for butt chocolate. (I don*t know what that means)

Those new personal video touch screens on the AC planes are great. Watching Spiderman 3 with my left eye closed because Lumber started his movie 5 seconds before me. . . not so great. It was like peripheral deja-vu or eye-echo. (New words. Write them down)

Using the acronym ABC in casual conversation. Amazing how often you can slip the words Ass Ball Connection in just about any conversation.

Arriving at YVR and not having a ride into the city, despite knowing a handful of people who live in this city. We should have known by the sign. Welcome to Vancouver. Take a cab asshole.

If you could look into Lumber*s ear and watch a picture show. It would be a series of random sushi rolls followed by split second lettering that reads. All you can eat sushi. All you can eat sushi. All you can eat sushi.

A 20 minute walk = 45 minute walk = LBG almost beating us to the damn sushi place.

Need to find Dutch Ketchup Chips. They don*t have Ketchup flavor in Ottawa. Dutch is the best.

The Jetson*s unnecessary anger at the Sushi people for their all you can eat policy. All you can eat implies buffet. The sign should read. . . All you can eat as we deliver it 4 rolls at a time.

Casa de LBG Wilson! Falling asleep to the soothing sounds of rattling beer cans with the passing of every hobo grocery cart.

I can*t believe we can*t find Dutch Ketchup Chips anywhere. Did you know that Dutch Ketchup Chips are the best? They are. Consumer reports proved it.

A smoothie is a mixture of fresh fruit and yogurt. A concoction is whatever the fuck Lumber made us drink on Friday morning. I could have gone through life without knowing what Pepto Bismal and Banana combination tastes like. Alas, this is no longer possible.

The Pre-Bachelor Party weekend starts with a drive out to RCMPats in Abbotsford while listening to Elton John*s greatest hits. Cause that*s what party animals do.

The hunt for Dutch Ketchup Chips ends at convenience store #3. Those Dutch Ketchup Chips are gonna be good.

50% off 100 dollars worth of purchases at the Value Village. Nobody finds a deal like Lumber. Matching Black Eyed Pees hoodies for free. Booyakasha! Will.I.Am. Booyakasha!

Pop quiz. What*s better than Dutch Ketchup Chips? Answer. Watching someone, who can*t wait to eat them, spill the entire bag because they looked at their watch.

Sometimes you have to ring the doorbell 10 times to wake someone up. Hunting Shit Rats all night can put any man into a coma like state.

Listening to a grown man shave himself down like Greg Louganis before his big bachelor weekend. I*ll take things that are uncomfortable for 5000 Alex.

What weirder than an grown man obsessed with Ketchup Chips? Watching another grown man go into his garage and plug in his leaf blower just to get some chips off his porch only to find out that the chord is stuck under his van wheel, backing up the van, liberating the chord and finally. . . blowing off the chips. Huh. Brooms work too.

RCMPat has an eye for interior indesign. Queer Eye For The Queer Guy. If you*re looking for a new host. . . just sayin.

Finding out that RCMPat is well versed on the entire schedule and editing practices of the Playboy Channel. It was like listening to a horny rainman.

30 years old and the Jetson will eat a spoonful of Wasabi to have someone pay for his $8 meal. Wow.

Time to got to the Trap and Grill! The only place in town where you can see amateur Kriss Angels dazel their challenged girlfriends with Kindergarden parlour tricks. Whoa. Mindfreak.

STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO: SWEAT PANTS AND KETTLE POISON

HOW TO GET A FREE WEDDING RING

2007-07-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Attention Vancouverites

FYI – The Jetson will be in Vancouver for a bachelor party next weekend Aug 2-6. If you would like to buy my Bachelor friend several bowls of loud mouth soup while also meeting The Jetson (thus revealing is secret identity), please contact me at jetsonstamina@hotmail.com

Right then. . . On with the show.

HOW TO GET A FREE WEDDING RING

A TRUE STORY BY: Jetson Stamina

(Not a word of this letter is a lie)

Hello,
In April of this year I purchased my Wife*s wedding ring from your Location, in _______. I cannot begin to express how dissatisfied we are with the service level on every aspect. Allow me to describe the situation and please take a moment to familiarize yourself with the details as I do plan on taking action if this is not resolved within 5 days.

We purchased the ring in April. In early May, I returned to have it sized and engraved in time for the wedding on May 26th. I never received a call for pick up, despite being assured I would. 4 days before the wedding I drove to the location to find out what was going on, only to find out that the ring had been returned. NOT ENGRAVED and NOT SIZED.

Certainly, you can empathize that this is not a welcomed added stress 4 days prior to the biggest day of our lives. Mistakes happen.

The ring was sent back to Toronto and promised to return on Friday May 25th. (1 day before the wedding) sized and engraved with the words written very clearly on the bill as such. Please engrave the words **3 Kisses. . . **

Once again, I never received a call for pick up, despite being assured I would. When I arrived to pick up the ring it was sized and engraved with the following letters.

XXX

Despite the connotation of the engraving, I can assure you that my wife is not a porn star. I can also tell you with all certainty that there could not be a more offensive or vile 3 letter word to put on the inside of a wedding band.

However, having less than 24 hours before the wedding. This was the ring I was stuck with. I told the sales person that I would return after my honeymoon to discuss compensation.

In early July, my wife returned to discuss the issue with the manager. Because you deal in sentimentality I*m sure that you can understand that the ring on my wife*s finger is the ring that she was married with and despite all of the trouble surrounding it. It*s the ring she will keep.

Here*s what was expressed to the manager upon returning from our honeymoon 3 weeks ago.

1) We do not want a new ring.

2) We do not want to the ring re-engraved or even handled by anyone associated with _____. In fact, any material removed, however miniscule to re-engrave is unacceptable.

3) We do not want a discount on our next purchase or even a gift card towards our next purchase.

Here*s what we would like:

1) We would like financial compensation. I purchased a ring at full price and was delivered a ring with the monichor of an adult film actress. I believe that*s enough to qualify for a substantial refund of the purchase price.

2) A formal apology. Something we have never received.

Once again, my wife was told by the manager that she would look into it and call her back by the end of the week with a solution. Its* been 3 WEEKS!!!

Here we are 3 months later, newlyweds with a black cloud hanging over our heads. I now have to issue an ultimatum.

Please have someone FROM HEAD OFFICE call me within 5 business days by telephone to discuss compensation or I will be filing a complaint with the BBB. Furthermore, having been quite embarrassed about the engraving we haven*t told anyone about the story. However, I do believe this has all the making of an entertaining news article and would be glad to share with whatever media type will listen.

Kindest Regards,

Jetson Stamina

WITHIN 4 DAYS WE RECEIVED A FULL REFUND WITH A WARRANTY INTACT.

But I regress

2007-07-18T07:50:00.000-07:00

Sunday was a good day. I went into a Starbucks and ordered a large coffee. I can*t bring myself to say the word Venti. Very few people know that Venti is a word used by Micronesian locals to describe elitism and pompous self-entitlement. . . in Canada we just call that a large overpriced coffee purchased near the outlet mall with ample parking for ridiculously large vehicles.

But I regress. . .

At the height of his career, Arnold Schwarznegger showed up at the premiere of T2 in an armored vehicle known mostly for it*s service during Operation Desert Storm. This was the birth of the Hummer as a retail commodity item.

Sometimes I wonder.

If George Clooney showed up at a Hollywood premiere in a tractor with a custom paint job and shiny spinning rims. . . How many tractors would John Deere sell?

Answer: Enough to fill a Starbucks parking lot.

But I digress. . .

Sunday was a good day, because I got a FREE coffee from the girl behind the counter who winked at me and said with a smile, Don*t worry about it.

I gotta tell yah, the only thing better than FREE coffee is a giant dose of pompous self-entitlement at no charge.

That*s right ladies. . . Jetson Stamina*s still got it.

ARE WE COOKING ARE EGGS IN THE MICROWAVE HERE?

2007-06-29T08:59:00.000-07:00

There*s a question I think we should ask ourselves a little more often. . .

Are we cooking our eggs in the microwave here?

Are we sacrificing the essence of what we wanted in the first place in exchange for convenience itself? Are we losing something in the process?

Everyday we*re putting eggs in the microwave and passing radiation waves at a frequency of 2450 MHz just to expedite a meal.

As long as it looks like an egg on the way out, we*ll gladly believe that it*s an egg, when in fact the process itself has turned the egg into a petrified dog turd that happens to be wearing a cute little egg sweater.

Ignorance is bliss. An egg is always an egg and we*ll gladly eat dog shit in support of that belief.

So the next time your doing something. . . anything in fact. . . ask yourself this question.

Am I cooking my eggs in the microwave here? What am I losing for the sake of this convenience?

My mother is a bank teller. At one point, Mom could tell you who was looking for employment, who was pregnant, who was having a health crisis and where to send the Get Well Cards.

Bartenders take the night shift. Bank tellers take the day shift. If you want to have a sense of what*s going on in your community, just say hello to either one. At least this is how it used to be before convenience became such a hot commodity.

Nowadays, people with whom mom used to have conversations with on a regular basis now cook their eggs at the bank machine.

This doesn*t seem to bother mom much.

It*s less work she says. I refill the machine once in the morning and run all the statements through at the end of the day. Gets people in and out a lot quicker.

Recently, mom made a friend. A nice lady who usually uses the bank machine but one day decided to say hello. Mom now power-walks with her new friend every Monday night.

And to think. . . this never would have happened had Mom*s new friend continued to cook her eggs in the microwave.

Going To The Chapel

2007-05-26T08:10:00.000-07:00

Today is
THE BIG DAY

Today I say I DO. . .
and it*s just about the easiest
thing I*ve ever had to do.

When you know. . . You know.

Bachelor Party

2007-05-18T08:01:00.001-07:00

This weekend is my Bachelor Party. It should be ugly. I*m unaware of the details. You might say, I*m in the dark like Stevie Wonder. Bad joke. What? It*s not like he can read this.

I digress . . .

I know that I*m heading to a cottage. I know that paintball is involved. I wouldn*t put it past any of the boys to freeze the paintballs before loading them up. I know this because it*s what I would suggest if it wasn*t my own ass on the line.

Bachelor parties at a cottage on the lake with your best friends

is the NEW. . .

hookers and coke with douche bags who need an excuse to act out.

By The Numbers

2007-05-07T12:28:00.000-07:00

6 = Amount of planes I*ve been on in the last 2 weeks.
22 = Hours spent on these planes.
0 = Total meals received on said planes. Not counting the petrified dog shit they call pretzels.
2 = Movies I watched on these planes. All I could think of during Pursuit Of Happiness was, why doesn*t the Fresh Prince just rap his way out of poverty.
1 = Amount of homeless people that ask me to buy them bottled water at the 7/11.
1 = Complaints I received from the very same homeless person about the water not being cold.
282 = Total floors I ran at the Sheraton in Toronto to keep in shape. 47 floors. 3 times up. 3 times down. While I thought it to be quite the challenge, my testicles would not recommend it.
556 = Approximate number of miscellaneous items that have mysteriously made their way into my briefcase without my knowledge or consent.
8 = Elevator rides I took in St-Louis.
7:1 = Ratio of elevators in St-Louis that smell fine vs. elevators that smell like hobo urine after stealing asparagus from the Safeway.
75% = Percentage of Mary Kay salesman on the flight from Las Vegas to Capital City.
1% = Percentage of Mary Kay salesman who would not shut up about the importance of their 10 year old daughters using moisturizer, exfoliant scrub, detoxifying cream as well as ingesting 12 essential vitamins a day.
7 = Rows of people who had to listen to a Mary Kay salesman obsess about the founder like she would eat her out until her head caved in if the opportunity ever arose.
$144 = Money spent on Mary Kay Products by Jetson Stamina. (Kidding)

Tragedy upon tragedy

2007-04-18T08:34:00.000-07:00

The speed at which network news can put together a montage is absolutely incredible. News feels more like a movie nowadays. Scripted by the best writers around.

32 people dead.

A few of which will get their life stories told in a short 30 second segment edited together with a handful of images from a university yearbook and mixed in with footage of a swat team advancing on the engineering hall. All that*s needed is a rock solid sound bite like. . .

An Israeli professor killed while protecting his students was a Holocaust survivor.

A posthumous tribute narrated by a reporter who had to put something together before his five o*clock deadline.

That*s how I would want to be remembered.

FRESH OUT THE HIATUS. STRAIGHT INTO THE DAFT

2007-04-13T08:50:00.000-07:00

I had a POOGASM this morning. Packed the porcelain so tight it practically pushed me off the bowl. (Say that three times fast) I would like to give props to Rickard*s Red and Quaker Harvest Crunch. Nobody jars me loose like y*all. I*m a new man.

(The eneMAN!)

POOGASM: A Jetson Staminism. Refers to an exceptionally gratifying bowel movement. Please use often and in casual conversation.

7 more weeks before I get hitched. Sometimes the biggest decisions in life are the easiest ones to make. Testify.

Planning a wedding has put blogging on the back burner. I realize that Awesome Town has tumbleweeds running through it and that all the citizen*s have moved on to Radical Ville, Super City or Dope Village. I know this because their mayors point and laugh at me during the general assembly. That*s cool. A few carefully orchestrated e-mails to the right authorities should have them unsuspectingly meeting with Chris Hanson of Dateline NBC any day now.

With that said, if anyone wants a link. E-mail me. Be glad to oblige.

I hope to blog a few times over the next few weeks. I leave for Toronto on Sunday, then off to St-Louis followed by a puddle jump to Las-Vegas. 2 weeks of smiling till my face hurts, avoiding Chinese manufacturers and figuring out ways to make flight attendants say the words Bag Of Nuts over the intercom.

Have a nice weekend.

Jetson Stamina

I *ve grown to dislike this blog template. I want something clean, white with an image running across the top that I can change often. Since I suck at html. This will not happen.

HIATUS

2007-02-12T10:50:00.000-08:00

HIATUS

2007 is a shiny silver rocket car that travels at supersonic speeds and I am just a passenger who asked for a ride back to his broken down golf cart. Unfortunately, shiny silver rocket cars only have two speeds. The first is GO, the second is GO FUCK YOURSELF. When you ask for a ride back to your Golf Cart, you assume that you'll be travelling at GO speed. However, shiny silver rocket cars are a speeding lie of ommission rolling on 14 inch rims.

The point I*m trying to make here is this. . . never ask time to slow down for you. It will trick you into thinking it might and then it will tell you to go fuck yourself.

I will be back when the shiny silver rocket car stops at Woolco to take advantage of the beaded seat cover sale.

So see you soon. . .

POST - BIRTHDAY THANKS

2007-01-22T10:42:00.000-08:00

I got friends. I got friends like P.Diddy got court dates. I got friends like J-Lo got booty. I got friends like Michael Jackson*s got candy and Jesus Juice in a Pepsi can. I got friends like Richard Geere*s got hamsters.

Edit: The Spice purchased a Chicken for my Birthday. Go tell her she*s awesome.

THANKS STEPH.

That Chicken can have a dramatic effect on a families ability to provide the most basic of needs. I named the Chicken. *SPICECOQ*

I got friends and I need to say thanks.

I need to say thanks to Double Down who despite having his hands full with a 7lbs new born pooping machine took the time to write me a birthday wish.

I need to say thanks to LBG. Who not only blogged about how awesome I am (it*s true, I*m kind of a big deal) but who was the first person to call me on my birthday at 3:01am. Exactly 1 minute after midnight in Vancouver. Exactly 1 minute after our siamese-birthdays began. Sure the operation went well, but when your formerly conjoined twin moves to BC. . . feels like something*s missing. (Sheds a tear. Farts and then giggles.)

I need to say thanks to RCMPat and Lumber for organizing a conference called a birthday wish on their way back from Staples. It feels good to know that the two guys who could destroy me on my birthday, were1283km*s away. . . busy plotting the demise of LBG by making photo shopped Gay Porn Posters at Staples.

Lumber deserves additional props for making a “DVD Retrospective”. I know you did that on the plane ride home from Newfoundland, when you could have been banging a newfie flight attendant in exchange for more free nuts. Newfies work for peanuts. It*s a fact. So thanks.

I need to thank Jay and the Italian Mafia Sisters who always bring a touch of class peppered with tones of wassamadaforyou charm to every cocktail party.

I need to thank mom, for being mom.

I need to thank Linz and Ozone for putting their best efforts forward. The flu is a real muthafuckah.

I need to thank Nic for switching nursing shifts just to make it to my party. An even bigger thanks for pretending like you weren*t exhausted. . . and for the bucket of beer.

I need to thank my Big Brother for finding a babysitter and making it to my party. Also for wrapping tools that I leant to him a year ago. A gift from myself to myself. Touching.

I need to thank Dr. Kilts for helping to orchestrate the surprise Cocktail Extravaganza and for the smelly cheese. I thought the cheese smelled fine. Bunch of complainers. You do good work Dr. Kilts and you*re a sneaky sum*bitch too. Also, once again, very nice dress.

This is starting to feel like an Oscar speech.

I*d like to thank God for helping with the party planning and for being the designated driver. Your omnipotence and your willingness to pull over before we puked on the seats is the driving force behind my life.

Ok almost done . . . 2 more.

I need to thank the Mattender! Your skills that night were Sam Malone-esque. Thank you for going way overboard on stocking the alcohol. You could enable Courtney Love and Mel Gibson for a whole year with what*s in the pantry. (Fuck me is that Courtney Love in your pantry? Wow. News travels fast.) You went the extra mile and I sincerely appreciate it.

Last but not least. . .

I need to thank the Mrs. for a fantastic weekend and for actually putting the SURPRISE into surprise party. Well done. Despite all of the wedding planning and new career, you managed to plan a perfect weekend. One that I won*t forget. No wonder I marrying you.

Thanks to everyone for all the birthday wishes.

Three Dot. O Dot.

2007-01-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

Today I am 30. Although technically, I guess I*m 31 since we all start zero. I share this birthday with one of my best friends, LBG. Le Beau Gats. We*re brothers from different mothers. While opinions vary on who is the Devito and who is the Schwarznegger, I can tell you this. LBG is the friend that seemingly makes it out of every situation without a scratch on him.

Apparently, this will be put to the test with massive amounts of alcohol that would make a Moose with a shaved ass seem like a suitable sexual partner. Happy Birthday LBG!!!

Today I am 30. I don*t mind the sound of that. As I reflect on my own personal New Years day, I*ve drawn a few conclusions.

When I was 20,
I spent the better part of that year breaking away from family.

Now, at 30.
All that matters is family.

When I was 20,
A 2am phone call meant that I should brush my teeth and check the expiry date on my Johnson Rod Raincoats.

Now at 30,
If the phone rings at 2am, I pray for good news or a wrong number.

When I was 20,
I had no clue how to use a semi-colon.

Now at 30,
I have no clue how to use a semi-colon. I think a semi-colon is the result of a surgical procedure required when a person has eaten way too much fiber.

When I was 20,
I took a shit kicking from the first girl I ever loved and I probably owe a few apologies to the girls that followed.

Now at 30,
I*m realizing that the last girl I*ll ever love is really all that matters.

When I was 20,
I could write a 120 page marketing analysis and strategic planning document on the state of Greyhound Transportation Corp.

Now at 30,
I can say a lot less and mean a lot more.

When I was 20,
The 3 F*s were the corner stone of good humor. Farting, Falling or Failing = Funny. Witness the perfect storm. FARTING in someone*s face while spotting him on the bench press. Watching the bar FALL on his chest as he FAILED to finish his reps and almost dies of gas-face. Funniest thing ever.

Now at 30,
The 3*F*s are still just as funny.

When I was 20,
I thought 30 was old.

Now I*m 30,
And 30 isn*t old. 40 is.

Wanna buy me a gift?

All I want is a $15 chicken;

https://payment.csfm.com/donations/unwrapped/gift.php?gift_id=4

The program is aimed at increasing Ethiopian women*s economic wealth, their
ownership and responsibility in managing household assets and their involvement
in decision-making that affects their lives and their community. Participants
are trained on poultry production, construction of poultry barns, and are
supported in accessing veterinary services.

If you*re new, this gift gets you citizenship into Awesome town.

Already a citizen?

A chicken donation, will get you promoted with a fancy title.

Enjoy your weekend.

What The Kids Are Listening To These Days.

2007-01-12T06:49:00.000-08:00

Hi.
Glad you liked the CD. I was so happy with the flow of the CD that I made one for myself. I think that*s the problem with IPODS and all those new fangled mp3 players, people don*t take the time to make a good list that flows like a human soundtrack. Instead, they pack it shit-tight with peanut clustered jems like Akon - Smack That! (Club Remix featuring Fuknut Butterlips, Miss Fannypack, Eminem and Gangbang Possee.)

Take Care,

Jetson Stamina

What The Kids Are Listening To These Days.
Why am I doing this, it*s just going to make me angry.

AKON - SMACK THAT

Shady.
Convict.
Up front
Akon.
Slim Shady.
I see the one cuz she be that lady.
(I have no idea what you just said. Slim Shady is your lady? Ohhh you*re convicts. I get it. It*s lonely in the pen. Wurd.)

I feel you creepin*, I can see you from my shadow.
(Don*t you mean I can see you from YOUR shadow? Unless your shadow pointed him/or her out?)
Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.
(You spent your record advance money on Lamborghini*s entry level model? Wow.

Who*s your financial advisor? K-Fed?

You get my vote for 2008*s most likely to be sucking dick at the bus stop for pocket change.)
Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.
(Taebo definition: Total. Awareness. Excellence. Body Obedience.

20 bucks says Billy Blanks Co-wrote this song didn*t he?)
And possibly bend you over.
(Possibly. Akon, you ask so nicely. How can a girl or convict refuse.)

Look back and watch me smack that,
all on the floor, smack that,

(Finally, lyrics Ike Turner can get behind)
give me some more, smack that,
*till you get sore smack that,
oooh. smack that, all on the floor,
smack that, give me some more, smack that, *till you get sore, smack that, oooh.
(Is this a reference to sex or pelting a raccoon? Both?)

Up front style. Ready to attack now.
(I would*ve guessed sex. . . but it is in fact pelting.)
Pull in the parking lot slow with the lack down.
Convicts got the whole thing packed down.

(Convicts are good at packing. Work release often places them as grocery packers and then they hang themselves. I learned this from Shaw Shank Redemption.)
Step in the club.
The wardrobe intact now.
(Down rhymes with Down. Now rhymes with Now.)

I feel it. Go on and crack now.
(Preperation-H on the crack now)
Ooh, I see it. Don*t let back now.
(What?)
Im*a call her. Then I put the mack down.
Money? No problem. Pocket full of that now.
Hangin* by the bus station with my chaps down.

Too stupid to continue. . . sorry I wasted your time.

Thing To Do In 2007

2007-01-02T13:34:00.000-08:00

Things to do in 2007

Spend more time with the people that matter and less time with the people that don*t.
Show my vagina the next time I exit a limo.
Be the only Google resource for those researching t-ball league for adults Apparently, there is a demand. See you in my gold plated trailer with my diamond incrusted desk with a plaque that says Commisioner Awesomeness.
Hug 3 Hobos this year or 1 Hobo 3 times. If both these fail, watch a rerun of The Littlest Hobo. . . hug the television.
No eating after seven. I am not a bear or Rosie O*Donell. I do not need to pack on the pounds for hybernation.
Create some kind of clear and present danger.
Get you to join Oxfam. It*s free. www.oxfam.ca/what-you-can-do/become-a-member
Play in a Dodge Ball tournament, whip the ball in someones face and apologize afterwards by saying, Sorry, I thought this sport wasn*t for pussies.
Marry up.
Stop making fun of my friends for being stupid and ugly and bald and stupid.
Save someone from a clear and present danger. Then ask for financial compensation.
Say Hello more often than avoiding eye contact.
Wipe off the finger marks in my windshield that spell I Love Guys.
Limit my intake of infomertials re-runs.

Third Person Party

2006-12-20T08:23:00.000-08:00

The Jetson likes you. Sure he just met you, but he likes your moxy and is impressed by your swagger.

The Jetson had dinner with Candida, Webbslinger and the Jewish Princess last night. Candida*s job consists of selecting balls out of a machine and announcing winners. I figure if your balls get played with, you*re already a winner.

The Jetson thinks we should have a T-Ball league for adults. I*m starting an association. The TBLA (Tard Ball League of America)

The Jetson has a stomach flue and is tired of exploding like a brown supernova in the company bathroom. Every hour, on the hour.

The Jetson thinks we*re all so busy counting down towards one disaster or another that their might be a market for counter clockwise clocks.

The Jetson has a reoccurring fear of hitting a deer on his drive home. The fear has created some pretty fantastic delusional scenarios. He*ll hit the deer, head-on at the crest of a steep hill and the angle at which the collision occurs will propel the deer 50 feet into the air and land on the adjacent steps of the 7-Day Adventist church that the priest will recognize as a sign of the end times. Or the deer will be crossing the road pushing a baby deer in a stroller and the baby deer will yell mommy no! but the Jetson won*t be able to stop.

Left to his own culinary devices, the Jetson will survive on hotdogs and rice-cheese wraps.

If you*ve created a smokers lounge in your garage, and your sitting in your lawn chair wearing a giant down vest and puffing away in 40 below weather thinking. . . man life does not get any better than this. The Jetson wants you to know that you are wrong. Please let your Buick Skylark into the garage, he*s cold and you*re mocking him by smoking in his home.

The Jetson refuses to believe that Burt and Ernie are anything more than just good friends.

The Jetson wants to be the first Survivor Contestant to take a dump in the clean water reservoir and fire pit on the eve of his elimination. I call it prop to protest. See you on Survivor All Star.

The Jetson says this Ape suit was itchy. Rolling Rock pays scale. Bastards.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uXAGM4z6ASA

Santa Clause was comming. . . 9 months ago.

2006-12-14T08:25:00.000-08:00

To those of you expecting a MIX CD, I will be mailing them tomorrow morning.

Except for you Gats, I will be giving you the CD in person, sometime between a Welcome Home and Drunk Christmas Dry Hump.

If you enjoy the CD I have made for you I suggest you go to www.Oxfam.ca and buy a goat on my behalf.

If the CD is life changing, forget the goat… buy a DONKEY on my behalf.

I suggest you buy this t-shirt for x-mas. It just makes the holiday season more festive. Available here: http://www.cafepress.com/jetsonstamina2

AND ON THE BACK. . .

Squirels, Salmon and Vuhjayjay.

2006-11-30T13:03:00.000-08:00

Buckle Up, I just re-read this post and it ends up in more places than Britney Spears VuhJayJay.

I am a lot of things. . . but a writer is not one of them.

I like the new McDonalds coffee cups. Very festive. Too bad their coffee tastes like a rabid squirrel passed an infected kidney stone into a cup and then tried to mask the smell of the stone by spraying Febreze into it. (I don*t know why the squirrel had to be rabid).

It*s unfortunate when the packaging is the best thing about the product. It*s like opening a vagina shaped box and getting a pair of socks. (Yes, squirrels can get kidney stones.)

Last night we enjoyed a pre- Christmas dinner at Poppa Mike*s house. I ate turkey and crab and smoked salmon and pasta and shrimp and a few things that looked a lot like Santa candies but were probably table ornaments and serving utensils.

(I know they don*t have opposable thumbs but squirrels are smart and somehow he figured out how to spray the Febreze. Holy shit, quit it with the questions, get away from my blog penis breath.)

It*s important to be innovative when there*s a kitchen table full of food coveted by a bunch of cheap sons-of-bitches that would never buy the expensive stuff for themselves.

I wanted to get my fill, so I created a turkey-crab-salmon-turkey sandwich topped with salmon and cheese. It*s much more efficient in the mouth to stomach delivery process.

Side Note: If you mix cheese and salmon . . . you get concrete. Last time I dropped the kids off at the porcelain pool, it was November 29th. I*ll keep you posted if things change.

I enjoy salmon, I would be enjoying salmon today except Lumber managed to get his hands on all $80 worth of the table scraps. You*re a better man Lumber. FYI – The salmon taste better with cheese.

Last night I found, how a father expresses pride in his son.He prints out a humongous 5ft x 6ft poster of himself shaking the hand of his son at RCMP graduation. Then he gets pictures of himself with his son holding the 5ft x 6ft poster. Then he gets a poster made of that. Ok the last part never happened. Still though, that*s pride.

Side Note: I always thought that if I had friends with guns, I would be allowed to shoot them.

I also realized that I*m probably getting older. Among the things that tipped me off. . .

Linz and Shannon are about to plop out a deuce. . . of children, the ladies spent the better part of the evening discussing wedding plans and Old Man Winter wore kakis to the dinner. Yup, I*m getting older.

Big Ups to DoubleDown for staying all night, even with a stomach virus. Blip Blip.

Excerpt from: Reasons why you should avoid hanging out with Jetson Stamina.

Reason 415: During the X-mas Parade Of Lights. He yelled at the Ottawa 67*s Raccoon Mascot to stay out his trash.

Reason 812: In the 4th grade he used to fart on his banana and brown sugar sandwiches because he thought it was the best way to entertain others.

Reason 423: If you mouth of at him. He*ll call you a skating vagina.

Reason 777: Clamidia.

Reason 22: If you*re Mrs. Half Stamina, he*ll think it*s appropriate to show you britney spears* vagina.

Vagina. Tehe

Scenes

2006-11-16T10:53:00.000-08:00

I*ve decided to change the rules because I am dog spelled backwards. Anyone who e-mails his or her address to jetsonstamina@hotmail.com before X-Mas will be receiving a Jetson Stamina MIX TAPE.

By TAPE I mean CD. By mix I mean mix.

Memorizing Lines From A Non Existent Short Film About
A Conversation At A Halloween Party
By: Jetson Stamina

Ohh you said. . . It*s not a party *till someone gets the lights. I heard. . .
It*s not apartheid *till someone is oppressed by whites.

See, I thought you were racist and I was about ready to pull your shirt over your head and pile drive you like Brutus The Barber Beefcake.

. . . But you*re not a racist, and I*m a little embarrassed.

Boy is my face red. What?

Yes, I suppose I should choose my words more carefully when up in Traditional Native American garb.

I think you should take a good look at your own Halloween costume before you start passing judgment. That sheet looks like it*s been worn before.

OH don*t get all snooty.

All*s I*m sayin is. . .

October 31rst is the only day you can poke two holes in a white sheet, drape it over your head and call yourself a ghost. On any other day, people will think you*re in the clan.

(End scene)

It*s not that I have these thoughts, it*s that I actually take the time to write them down.

HOBO THEFT ALBUM REVIEWS

2006-11-09T06:48:00.000-08:00

About a year and a half ago, A hobo was sitting in my car deciding whether he should steal the only French CD I own. He didn*t. Which is kind of hilarious because he took everything else.

Emptied my ashtray of subway coupons and loose change. Stole both window scrapers, which really sucks at 6am on a Monday in Mid-February.

Helped himself to my prison shank. A pocketknife I picked up after witnessing two drunkards brawling in front of the El Macambo in the T-Dot. (Always kept in my car, felt like I was keeping it from being part of another crime.)

Worst of all. . . He stole my tunes.

I can only hope he got a few bucks for them at the Record Runner. It was cold that night and nobody breaks into a car at 3am in the middle of winter when it*s minus a kabillion (or 40 below) unless they desperately need the money. . . or a prison shank.

So while the little lady and I were roasting in our tiny 3rd story attic apartment, some poor bastard was rifling through my cd collection wondering how many jewel cases his frost bitten fingers could hold.

Here*s the thing. . .

I own a lot of music and it*s taken me a year to figure out what was stolen. Now that I know what*s gone, I*m starting to miss it.

So share in my loss won*t you?

Here*s the list.

STINA NORDENSTAM – And She Closed Her Eyes

I bet you can*t listen to Murder In Maryland Park and go for a jog after midnight. Stina sings with so much honesty it makes me feel guilty.

THIRD EYE BLIND -

Quite possibly the worst live act I have ever seen. Which makes the studio polish that much more impressive. These guys should get more credit; it*s hard to find a rock album that is equal parts loud and melodic. Listen to Motorcycle Drive By and tell me your not singing or yelling the chorus by song*s end.

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT – 3 Years. . .

I was 13. I wore Converse jogging pants and had bright blue Nike*s. It was a phase. Much like jogging pants cannot hide a bonner, I cannot hide my shame for purchasing this album. Still though, when I sing all the words to Tennessee, I feel like I*m part of the struggle. Wurd.

TOM COCHRANE – Symphony Sessions

I*m not gonna lie to you. I*m not a fan. Listening to Tom Cochrane is the sonic equivalent of being sodomized by a horse. It*s a pain that can*t be described because most don*t live through it. This is what makes The Symphony Sessions all the more amazing. Somehow the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra manages to morph Cochrane*s songs into something entirely listenable that can*t be likened to beastiality of any sort.

LOVERBOY – Super Hits

When I was in high school my brother drove a 1987 Z28. The Z28 is basicly the Trans Am*s love child. When you ride in a Trans Am you listen to Def Leopard and Loverboy and you like it. Turn Me Loose. Working For The Weekend. Super Hits? Pffff. How about Ultra Mega Hits.
PEARL JAM – No Code

You can gauge a band*s longevity by the quality of their B-Sides. Pearl Jam has always had much better B-Sides than anything they*ve ever released on radio. I can, and have, listened to Present Tense on repeat a half dozen times before going on to the next track. When I first heard In My Tree, I was blown away. I had never heard anything like it. For a music, that*s the Holy Grail. Discovering something that*s completely foreign and loving it. I will sing Around The Bend to my future babies.

MATTHEW GOOD – AVALANCHE

A good album can change your mood and for this reason, Avalanche is a masterpiece.

MORCHEEBA – Big Calm

Skye Edwards has one of the greatest voices in music today. Combine that with intelligent beats labored over by actual songwriters. This is one of those albums that can be a soundtrack to your life. It was for mine. Now it*s gone. Buy this album.

BOB SCHNEIDER – Lonelyland

Bob Schneider deserves a listen. Alt-Country mixed with Hip-Hop and Rock influences wrapped up in a storyteller*s body. Probably one of my five favorite artists and top ten favorite albums. This is/was the most dynamic albums I have ever owned.

So now you have a choice, you can listen to Lonelyland and get a full range of emotions in 12 songs or you can by what*s on the radio that goes like this, lalalalala I am brooding-pissed-off-so-sad-why-did-you-leave-me- take-me-back-sorry-for-what-did.

First 3 people to e-mail me get an official Jetson Stamina Mix CD.

Halloween is Latin for?

2006-10-31T07:03:00.000-08:00

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I know that I said to never, ever, take candy from a stranger but today I want you to forget all that. In fact, see that house with the overgrown lawn and the windows with the shades that are always closed?

Yeah that one. . . with the white cube van.

I want you to go knock on his door and offer to perform a trick for him. Don*t worry what kind of trick, he*ll usually have a few suggestions. Now, he might refuse, but don*t worry, he will send you on your way with a handful of candy and wait for the next kid to come along.

Everyone has an uncle with a wood paneled basement and an unsettling passion for photography. I suspect that a few centuries ago, a few of these uncles got together and created Halloween. Which is latin for Child Delivery Service.

Forget Ghosts and Ghouls. I*ve just exposed the creepiest part of Halloween. . . and you*ll never look at it the same way.

Hope you like my costume.

I*m going as DEBBIE DOWNER.

Whaaaaaaaa Whaaaaaaaa.

P.S. It*s not too late to buy my Halloween T-Shirt.

BUY MY T-SHiRT

2006-10-25T11:53:00.000-07:00

ANOTHER JETSON STAMINA DESIGN...
JUST IN TIME FOR HALLOWEEN.

BUY IT AT:

http://www.cafepress.com/jetsonstamina2

Please help fund my addiction to meth. Thank you.

Third Person Party - Red Wine and Sumo

2006-10-18T08:08:00.000-07:00

Last night, the Jetson drank red wine and watched 30 Rock. Red wine makes funny things funnier.

Then the Jetson watched Dancing With The Stars. Red wine makes terrible thing more terribler.

The Jetson then convinced the lovely Mrs. That he could lift her up and twirl her around just like they do on Dancing With The Stars.

So. . . she took a running start and jumped into his inebriated arms. The Jetson then gracefully hoisted her up above his head only to have her overshoot the launch and smash her nose, hard, into the Jetson*s badunkadonk.

Dramatic Re-enactment

The Jetson feels sad when the Mrs. does that laughing-while-crying-cause-it-hurts thing.

The Jetson thinks that online journals are quickly being filled with emotional-adventists.

The Jetson just coined the phrase emotional-adventist.

Emotional-adventist: A person wrought with inner turmoil who
believes that his or her suffering will bring forth the end times.

The Jetson wants you to use this phrase sparingly in casual conversation.

While in Dubai, The Jetson took this picture of Michael Jackson*s child wrangler. Oh MJ, will you ever change.

MJ*s Wrangler: Shown here carrying children

to the ranch for some child rearing.

Jetson and Lumber are going to have beers and watch Lost tonight. When Lumber wakes up the next morning with a headache and his pants on backwards, the Jetson will pretend nothing happened.

The Jetson overheard two yuppies complaining about gas prices while ordering a 4 dollar cup of coffee at Starbucks. If you look at things on a per litre basis, you can only come to one logical conclusion. . . yuppies are assholes.

The Jetson states that Kazaam will be remembered as a cinematic achievement.

The Jetson owns Web Of Spiderman Number 1. . . with the BLACK SUIT. Apparently everyone on E-Bay does as well. Sadly, The Jetson will not be rich off the sale of this collectors item. Back to hot dogs and wine in a box.

They come for the weiners but they stay for the wine.

Later.

2006-10-12T12:27:00.000-07:00

Today is Mrs. Soontobestamina*s birthday.

Unfortunately, she has to spend it trying to convince down trodden HIV cases that flossing and all around dental hygiene is a good idea. Somehow I doubt they*ll get it. . . but that doesn*t matter.

She*ll try and try again.

One day a patient will walk into the clinic with one tooth swinging from a rotten root like Jackie Chan on a rope ladder that*s dangling from helicopter. . . she*ll look at that tooth and say It*s your last one, don*t you think it*s time you took care of it?

She*ll do this, not because it*s what she does but because it*s who she is.

A woman of conviction with rock solid beliefs.

No smoke and mirrors.
No trickery.
No rabbit out of a hat.
No Sony guts with Emerson shell.

Mrs. Soontobestamina lives what she says she is.

She is true. . . and where there is truth. . . there is love, loyalty and respect.

That*s just about the best compliment I could ever give someone.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

P.S. Not to mention she*s a stone cold fox and I get to hit that on a regular basis.

Happy Belated Birthday Dr. Kilts.

2006-10-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday was a blast. We enjoyed some beverages in a belated celebration of Dr. Kilts* birthday. She*s Oldman Winter*s broad and quite frankly one of the closest girl friends I have. She*s a kind hearted spirit and I hope that her 28th Birthday party was memorable.

She*s also the first doctor to explain to me that not every doctor is the kind of doctor that is certified to examine my prostate. Note to self: Never go back to Doctor Who Convention. See about pressing charges.

Dr. Kilts* friends made the trip down from Port Colburn just to celebrate her birthday. Very nice of them. For anonymity*s sake, we will call them Luke Skywalker and Princess Leah.

On second thought, they*re married so they probably wouldn*t appreciate the brother-sister affiliation. Let*s call them Susan Summers and Chewbacca. Insinuating the practice of alien beastiality with a thigh master. . . much better.

So I hope Susan and Chewy had a good time. They seemed like good people, but then again, a lot of good things come out of Port Colburn. Like the Leons Brothers and there wonderful furniture stores.Of course, there are other unsettling facts about Port Colburn.

Port Colburn*s main attraction is their incredibly shrinking mill. Some say it*s an optical others, like myself, believe it*s the work of the devil.
Port Colburn residents hate black people. (Susan and Chewy are working hard to change this mentality)
More children in Port Colburn are conceived in flat bed trucks then anywhere else in Canada.
The saying, If you*re gonna have sex with a horse, it*s better to be the giver, comes from Port Colburn.

What else happened. . .

Lumber explained to me his intrecat system of never forgetting a birthday. He get*s an e-mail one day prior, followed by a text message sent directly to his cell phone. Bastard always make me look bad.

So I tried to set-up the same system, but you can*t send text messages to a rotary phone.

Shandreas was kind enough to grace us with their presence. They are expecting a little baby girl. Shannon is a glowing mom to be. I complimented her on her killer pancho. Apparently panchos don*t connect at the bottom. . . boy was my face red.

Mrs. Soontobestamina was being extra affectionate. This is like saying the cornered rabid badger was being extra ferocious. Maybe it was the lingering aura of new engagement or the multiple bowls of loud mouth soup or a wonderfully concocted elixir of both. . . either way, I enjoyed it.

Unfortunately, when the Jetson drinks wine he turns into a lama. I only have one good hump in me.

If you*re nice. . . next time. . . I might invite you.

Say Hello!

Stay awhile.

Book Titleologist Available

2006-10-02T06:31:00.000-07:00

If I were to write a book that was a humorous take on the state of the American legal and political system it would be titled. . .

Brown Depositions In A Porcelain Courtroom: The American Standard

This is quite possibly the cleverest thing I have ever written. I need a nap.

Third Person Party: Part 12

2006-09-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

Jetson had 3 hot dogs and hard boiled eggs for dinner last night. Straying away from his usual rice and cheese pita wrap, the Jetson felt liberated.
You guessed it, Mrs. HalfStamina was not home last night.
Jetson thinks that dealing with people in the wedding industry can be an exercise in grabbing your ankles if you*re not careful. Businesses lined up to take the dirt road all the way to the Jetson's wallet.
Jetson refuses to pay a wedding photographer $2500 for 5 hours work and not even get the negatives. That*s $500 per hour. That*s the best hourly wage I have ever heard of. You know who has the 2nd best hourly wage? God! That guy created the earth, the sky, the ocean and broads in 7 days, and he only makes $220 per hour.
Jetson got so fired up in the above note that he strayed away from talking about himself in the 3rd person. It's amusing.
Jetson*s personal anthem features 3 instruments. A piano, an acoustic guitar and a trumpet solo. . . backed by a choir of large black women.
Jetson drinks cold coffee at work because it*s usually around 2pm before he takes his first sip.
Jetson brings a butter knife to a bat fight.
Watching the original Planet Of The Apes on a Sunday afternoon is Jetson*s idea of relaxing.
Jetson led a horse to water once. It drank. Then it bucked Jetson*s arse into the swamp.
Jetson was rotund as a child.
Jetson*s mom preferred the words “big bones” to describe her son*s blimp like stature.
Jetson was a late bloomer.
Jetson makes good compost.

THE JETSON BLOGGER BABY NAMING MACHINE.

Step 1: In the comments, tell me which blogger you are mating with.

Step 2: Check comments to see what name the Jetson has bestowed upon your offspring.

OPTIONED OUT

2006-09-28T09:44:00.000-07:00

Lions Gate Films has optioned out of Jetson*s script. It*s about a shoe bomber who loses his legs 3 months before the attack he had been planning for 2 years. The story follows his struggle to rehabilitate while planning his own suicide bombing in time for the 5th anniversary of the village massacre that took the life of his parents and younger brother.

They wanted a love interest. Might as well make it a musical. I refused. We parted ways.

The script will now be in perpetual limbo for a decade.

As a result, no one will ever see a Jetson Stamina film.

Take The Long Way Home

2006-09-23T08:44:00.000-07:00

I*ve been away on business this week. Road trip. Myself and the owners. Thursday night we ended meetings in Atlanta around 6pm and headed for home. 4 men of different age groups and ethnicity all crammed tightly into a van. We are the UN of travel except we get things accomplished.

Atlanta to Ottawa is a 22hr trip if you include frequent stops to the Cracker Barrel followed by almost as frequent stops to the porcelain aquarium for brown torpedo launches. Can*t forget the frequent gas station breaks to the BP, Esso, Mobil, Shell, Race Trak or my personal favorite, Sheetz.

You wouldn*t believe how many poo jokes can make that include the word Sheetz. (I*m a child)

Gas station breaks generally take longer than they should. Partially because the owners like to buy gas station gifts for their kids, partially because I like to spread myths about Canada to the poor bastard working the night shift. You might say his life is Sheetz. (High Five Myself No Friends)

We*re from Ottawa Canada. We*re just returning from Miami Beach. That trailer out there is filled with Beavers. We were giving a Beaver Race demonstration. It*s a big thing in Canada and we*re hoping to bring it across the border. Gas station guy it was nice talking to you. Have a great night. Yes. . . Real live beavers. Yes I*m serious. They can swim incredibly fast, it*s exciting. Our website is http://www.wetbeavers.com/. Check us out. Have a good night.

Last night being a jackass caught up to me.

Karma is a friendly hooker with a prison shank in her boot.

If you treat her right, she*ll give you the time of your life. . . if you short change her, she*ll stab you in the heart and leave you with a semi-wood. This makes for an embarrassing chalk out line of your deceased self.

It*s now Friday. We just passed the sign for Harrisburg Pennsylvania. The half way point. I*m still in the van and have been since we first departed almost a full 22hrs ago. Soon, this will qualify as the longest drive of my life. I*ve barely slept. I have red-bull-coffee-heartburn. My turn to drive comes up in about 30 minutes.

The events leading up to this road trip debacle are as follows.

1 hour into the road trip, hit a 4hr traffic jam. A Kenmore Jackniffed and left half a lane open literally 3 towns away. I*ve never seen a convoy of Walmart and UPS 18 wheelers like that in my life. Somewhere in up state New York, a single mom is yelling at the customer service clerk because the lattest shipment of lunchables has yet to arrive. In that same store, someone else is whoopen* their kid in the toy aisle. Of course this is unrelated to the accident.

When we finally got passed the accident, we hit some debris about 30 miles later. Poof. Flat tire. Somewhere up there, God and Moses are pointing and giggling. Jesus thinks they get mean when they drink together. Always messing around with the insignificant humans.

We replace the flat tire with a spare that looks like a golf cart wheel.

The plan was to get to a truck stop and get the tire patched. We call CAA. One of the owners says and I quote, Hi, we have a flat. Can you get someone to come out, plug us up, pump us and send us on our way?

I laugh. Uncontrollably. CAA does not offer this service. If they did, I would sign up.

We find a 24hr tire patcher guy. H&L Trailer and Tire in Dixon, NC. Great guy. He comes out with a patch. Tells us the tire is unrepairable but if we follow him 50 miles to his shop, he has used tires and will hook us up. We agree.His truck won*t start. We sit in the parking lot while he fiddles with it for 30minutes until it starts.

And we*re off for a 50 mile drive back to where we originally got stuck in a 4hour traffic jam.

We get to his tire shop. If you*ve ever seen the movie U-Turn, this is the tire shop. I clench my butt cheeks and hope this isn*t a trap a la deliverance.

Tire guy puts on a used tire. It*s flat. Tire guy tries a 2nd used tire. . . FLAT. Tire guy tries a third used tire. FLAT. Tire guy says, hope this on works, it*s my last one.

Fourth used tire works. We cheer. We pay tire guy with a healthy tip and we*re off.

For real this time. Promise.

I almost hit a black dog, crossing a black street in a town with no lights. It felt like I was a part of some weird trivia question.

The drive continues. I see an n old lady in a bathrobe walking bare foot down the street at about 4am in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. She was waving her finger in the air and possibly pointing at the van. I look in the rear view but don*t spot her. I ask if anyone else saw this. . . they say no.

I assume this is the Devils work.

Since there are 2 people I don*t fuck with, The devil and Ron Popeal, I immediately pull the van over, relinquish the keys, lay down in the backseat and pass out for 45mins. I wake up in a Cracker Barrel parking lot.

That was 5 hours ago. All is well. Be home soon.

Provided Karma is done kicking me in the nut sac with a cowboy boot.

New Citizens

2006-09-12T11:31:00.000-07:00

It seems that new citizens have moved into Awesome Town. Please have a look in the sidebar and go visit their homes with pie and astroglide. Remember, it’s part of the Awesome Town song.

The Only Thing Friendlier
Than Awe-Some-Town (Falsetto)
Is a sweet peace of Pie

And A Reach Around. (Baretone)

Attention: New Awesome-Townies

Things you should know about Awesome Town

The last Friday of every month is Ted Danson day.
Nothing*s open on Sundays except the back door because back-door guests are best.
Hockey is called LaCrosse and LaCrosse is called Hockey. All good nations mess with sporting names just to confuse foreigners.
Schools have art, music and physical education programs.
George the Animal Steel is president of the Student*s Association at St-Pius De Awesome High School. He refuses to graduate from 11th grade because he likes being president of something. We let him because his tongue is green and he eats foam.
Jetson gets to name your first-born. Don*t worry, it will be something cool like Chester Field Laidlaw The 4th
Never bother George The Animal Steel when he*s watching Gilmour Girls.
Our national sport is Pong.
Our Art Galleries commission paintings based on an acceptable hourly wage. Dogs Playing Poker cost us $290 ($29 x 10hours). Something like the Mona Lisa would cost us $3000. ($100 x 30hours)
Everyone gets a monkey.
Our Disc Jockeys don*t laugh at their own jokes.
Awesome Town is a pseudo-socialist system. Salaries have ceilings. Social status exists but is scaled back. Sports Figures, Doctors and Heads Of State still enjoy praise and a higher paycheck, but not one figure or corporation will benefit from an obscene amount of money. Excess will be distributed to education, social programs.

Thank you. Don*t forget to take a brochure on your way out.

Split Second Hurricanes And The Calm That Followed

2006-09-11T09:12:00.000-07:00

I am a million thoughts at once.

A split-second hurricane of beliefs and disbeliefs mixed with opinions, suppositions and pointless bar trivia smashing around in my head. It*s a fusillade of notions and inklings zipping through gray matter and translated into an anglo-francophonic vernacular that only I understand.

While I am depicting an inherent violence in my thought process, it*s always been coupled with an intricate filing system akin to Library science.

Gary Coleman On A Unicycle, Fiction.
Sly needs a babysitter next week, Family.
GoBots is to Beta as Transformers is to VHS. Electronics.
The Poo Nanny and The Poonany are two very different pornos. Pornography.

The end result has always been a sense of peace. An amusing jaunt that keeps me up at night.

I*ve never slept well. Most nights I*m in bed by 11pm and out by 2am. The space between is a 3hour cinema where I embody both shaman and poltergeist. Eventually, the noisy apparitions dissipate and we all enjoy a deep slumber.

Where am I going with this?

One day in the midst of this noisy barrage. . . A single notion came to me.

A notion that would set-up shop and never leave. A notion that would become an integral part of my everyday thought process. So beautiful and warm that it would take me more than 2 years to share with anyone, protecting it like a fragile secret that I knew would grow to become the most powerful force in my life.

A notion that I shared with Mrs. HalfStamina 2 weekends ago when I asked her to be my wife. . .

. . . And with one word, YES, a notion became a truth.

2006-09-06T05:36:00.000-07:00

HIATUS IS RUNNING LONG.

Will Be Back In One Week Or Less.

Upon my return I will be appointing a Sherriff. Wouldn*t want AwesomeTown to become a Lawless state would you? This is different than a Lucy Lawless state, which is full of lesbians with swords, which is kind of cool and meets the approval of the Jetson.

Shame of sex? We can change it Leroy.

2006-08-22T07:50:00.000-07:00

I*m wearing a pink shirt today. It*s not salmon. It*s pink. I know this because pink is a color and salmon is a fish. Saying that my shirt is salmon is a little bit like catching a fish and saying look at the color of this salmon, it*s very shirt.

I purchased this dress shirt knowing it was pink. I don*t have a pink shirt and thought it might be a unique addition to my wardrobe. I don*t think owning a pink shirt makes me gay. . . although using the word wardrobe a few too many times might be a KPI.

But this isn*t about that, nor that about this.

The issue at hand is of Opacity vs. Translucense. Over the years I*ve purchased my fair share of pre-packaged dress shirts. If you know your neck size and arm length, you*re generally ok. You buy the shirt, take it home and follow heterosexual man protocol.

Remove the plastic packaging.
Remove the cardboard sleeve.
Remove the pins.
Try the dress shirt on.
Drop the F-Bomb a few hundred times because you forgot to remove ALL the pins and now you*re bleeding on your new shit.
Remove the shirt and realize it needs to be ironed.
Wait for your mom or girlfriend to offer to iron it because despite years of living on your own, you still can*t iron to save your life.
Get told by whom ever you convinced to iron your new shirt that you should have sprayed the blood stains immediately.
Try to convince someone else to scrub and remove the blood stains.
Wash it.
Back to ironing.
3 weeks later, you*re ready to wear it to work for the first time.

Today, I am on step 12. Which brings us back to the issue at hand, Opacity vs. Translucense. When you purchase a dress shirt in it*s neatly folded fabric over fabric packaging you*re made to assume that it will have certain density.

This is a lie of omission. A lie perpetrated by a giant corporation attempting to widen it*s profit margins with a low thread count. A lie powered by the blood and sweat of evil 9 year old Chinese factory workers who sewed my shirt together.

It*s a lie that has forced me to wear a completely translucent dress shirt to work. . .

. . . And the difference between Opacity and Translucense is the difference between wearing a dress shirt or wearing a blouse.

Today my friends, I am wearing a pink blouse to work.

The title is from some spam I received. I forwarded it to every Leroy I know.

Point and laugh. Leave a comment.

By The Numbers

2006-08-16T12:00:00.000-07:00

Ten. Total amount phone calls by two drunk Vancouverites just calling to see how I*m doing between 3am-5am last weekend.

Eight. Total messages left on my machine between 3am-5am last weekend.

Eight. Amount of times I laughed at the messages when I re-listened to them.

One. Amount of messages containing over the top death threats thought by Mrs. HalfStamina to be sincere.

Six. Amount of times Samuel L. Jackson said NO to starring in my movie Bears On A Plane. There Are Mother Fucking Bears, On The Mother Fucking Plane. Sure Sam, Snakes, that*s believable. Bastard.

Zero. Amount of time and/or money I*ve donated to charity in the last 3 months. Right about now Karma is sharpening her steel toe boots, just waiting for me to clean the bathtub in my underwear.

Two. Amount of cars that will now be in my driveway on a regular basis as of yesterday.

Three. Amount of times I*ve had to move one car to get the other out of the driveway since yesterday. Can*t wait till winter!

Seven. Times per week my dog gets frightened by the sound of his own farts.

Eighty. Total decibels of my dog*s average fart.

Twelve. Amount of punches to the skull I received when I asked Lawrence Fishburn to play the role of Samuel L. Jackson in Bears On A Plane. Who*s gonna notice?

. . . I also asked Natalie Portman to play the part of Keira Knightley.

Seventy Seven. Amount of times in highschool I tried to work in the phrase, The only way to be a great pianist is to play with your organ regularly but never said it right.

Four. Minutes it takes to convince a German exchange student that biking from Ottawa to New York State in one day is an absolute must as a tourist. He did it. 300KM. 1 Day.

Nine. Amount of people I*ve attempted to convince that German*s are Bionic. (Not counting those reading this blog) The bionic thing is an uphill battle. Na Na Na Na Na. . . Na Na Na Na Na. (<- It*s the closest onomatopia to the bionic sound I could come up with.)

One. Amount of times I accidentally kneed Mrs. HalfStamina in the face on an air mattress in the middle of a lake.

Two. Amount of toilets I*ve broken in my life.

One. Amount of times someone has taken advantage of my congenital anosmia by putting a wet and shitty sandal underneath my car seat before a 3 hour road trip.

Eight. Amount of minutes I laughed when I found out that people who can*t smell have formed a support group.

Side Note: I*m thinking about starting a thread about how to get a Handicap
Parking permit for those of us with anosmia. http://www.anosmia.net/index.php
Tired now. Bed Time.

The Blogpire Expands

2006-08-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

A new feature has been added to the Jetson Stamina Blogpire. (I.e. Blog Empire. New word. I'm awesome. High-Five -Myself-No-Friends)

Flickr has been added to the sidebar. I commented on most of my images. It will serve as today*s post.

If I can learn photoshop in 48hrs. I will have new t-shirts ready by monday. If Number 5 from Short Circuit can read war and peace in 20 seconds, I can learn photoshop in 48hrs.

For now, I've posted all of the logos in the Flickr account.

Have a great weekend.

Absolutely Unabashedly Random Thoughts II

2006-08-10T11:05:00.000-07:00

So here goes. A psychological blogsperiment. If you know a psychologist please send him the following transcript for further analysis. I*m open to prescriptions.

The game begins when I start typing and ends when I pause for more than 3 seconds…

. . . It*s 1:58pm.

How come nobody drinks coffee from a straw? Seems logical. I need to go to the gym tonight. Lately I*ve been farting on the treadmill again. Sometimes I wonder if the person on the treadmill beside me stopped running because he/she is done or because I smell like a dead cat rotting inside the stomach of a giant dead Skunk that perished in a pissing fight with another more-gianter (it*s a word) skunk. Mrs. HalfStamina is working a lot. I should do something nice for her. I gotta start taking lunches instead of eating lunches at supper. Lunchper. The new mealtime that*s sweeping the nation. What do you call a Bisexual Buffalo that never sticks around? Bye-BIson. Ha. Just made that up. Take that Last Comic Standing and it*s not even my A-list material. High Five Myself No Friends! It*s hard to be olfactively deficient. It occasionally saddens me. I*d like to smell a baby just once. A clean baby. Clean like, no-shitty-diaper clean. It doesn*t have to be clean-and-sober clean. It can be a crack-baby. I don*t really care. As long as it smells like the new baby smell everyone*s always talking about. I bought a top of the line mulching, rear bagging 4.5hp lawn mower this year. It*s impressive. Except now, with the addition of my deck, my lawn area has actually gotten quite small. So I*ve been putting off lawn mowing because I know I*m gonna end up looking like some idiot who*s having a difficult time trying to parallel park his Yard Machine. I *ve always wanted to write a novel but have not figured out how to do this without having a structure. Or proper speling. Or a story. Last night I had a dream that I was bitten by the black Smurf but because I*m not a Smurf I didn*t turn black, I just turned crazy. So I painted myself black and I was running around the market yelling Gnap! Gnap! and trying to bite people. It turned ugly when I ended up in a Jamaican nightclub. When you*ve gone ape shit bananas from a black smurf bite, it*s hard to explain to a bunch of large Jamaicans that you*re not trying to re-ignite the blacksploitation movement. You think that you*re being eloquent, but all that comes out is Gnap! Gnap!

. . . It*s 2:04pm.

MESSING WITH SPAMMERS IS OVER

2006-08-01T05:56:00.000-07:00

It*s over. Messing With Spammers Is Over.

Maybe he didn*t want to help bury my fictitious wife in the crawl space. Maybe he realised that my brother-in-law*s wife is in fact my sister and sharing 22 billion with a incestuous Doctor was immoral.

Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe not hard enough. Maybe it was beginning to look like too much work to share 22 Billion dollars with Dr. Jetson Stamina or maybe he realised that I was in fact a WOLF in SHEEP*s clothing.

. . . or as I commented in Grace*s blog. A Badger in a Bear suit.

You*d think that once you get close enough, you*d be like, Oh Thank God, that*s just a bear costume and not an actual bear.Then the bear suit comes off and it*s a fucking Badger and you*re like, Fuck me, where does a badger find a bear suit at this time of night?

So now the badger*s on top of you and you*re just protecting your eyes, cause you figure. He can disfigure me, but at least i*ll still have my sight.

So he mangles you a bit and after a while, he get*s bored, puts the bear suit back on, get*s into his 1987 Plymouth Sundance and drives away.

The moral of the story here is this. . .

A badger that can drive a car while wearing a bear suit is more dangerous than a wolf.

But I digress. . .

I*m sad. I*ve let the readers down, I*ve let myself down but the worsed of all is, I let Hank down. The other night he looked me in my good eye and said, Jetson, you*re not a funny man, but this Nigerian Spammer thing is gold.

Ever since I told Hank the series is over well. . .

I understand if you leave here and never come back. But it was good while lasted wasn*t it?

Have A Good Weekend!

MESSING WITH SPAMMERS. Part Quatre

2006-07-31T17:44:00.000-07:00

THE URGENCY: Every good salesman puts a deadline on an offer. Skim, I highlighted the good parts.

Hello brother,

Many thanks for your reply and also your mail,I want to promise you that as far as i am concerned,we dont have any time to wast in archieving this goal as soon as the bank managment has approved you as the real next of kin to MR. SALLA KHATIF .

Meanwhile,Just as I promise you that i will compose an application of claim on which you will send to the bank management for the approval of the fund into your account just as soon as i have heard from you, Find below the application.

Please I have put the trust in you with hope that you will not batryed me at the end. Please i want you to asured me very well that nothing is going to heppen with my own share till i come over with my family to stay and invest based on your advise.I would like you to fill in the gap and send to the bank by email or fax below and also forward a copy to me .

I still want to assure you again that you have nothing to loose in helping me get this done.We will laugh together at the end maybe in your country or whereever you will advise me to invest my own share of this fund.

Fill the below application urgently and then fax or email to the bank using the information below.I will be waiting to hear from you as soon as you have sent it by calling me on phone to enable me know that you have sent the text to the bank..

Thanks and regards to you

Mr Adams.

BLAH BLAH BLAH... an application followed.

REPLY #4: Preparing the home for your guests and ensuring that the proper forms have been filled out.

Dear MR. Adams,
Thank you for re-writing with me. You are coming to America! Land of the Hasselhoff and of the free. I am excited soo much it is yellow in my boxer for you to live with my loving family and my manatee like life draining wife!

In preparation for your arrival, I have commanded her to prepare the crawl space for you and your family to live. It is beautiful now with corregated box and packing foam for sleep. It is also a final resting place for many street youth I encountered after rye binge, but limestone has made it smell new and fantastic!

A dugeon fit for a Kink. All for you.

When the money cum. It will be happy money. It will need towel.

I have received your application details, but I must wait for my name to be changed to the name of MR. SALLA KHATIF. If I am going to disguise myself for imposter. I must have his name to get the 22 Billion that we will share.

BEFORE I CAN FILL OUT THE APPLICATION MY BANK TRUSTEE HAS ASKED ME TO GIVE YOU THIS QUESTIONNAIRE THAT I MUST HAVE BEFORE YOUR APPLICATION CAN BE FILLED IN THE BILLY BLANKS. PLEASE FILL OUT ASAP.

I will keep 90% confidential.

1- Name:
2- Country Of Origin:
2a- Date Of Conception:3- Sex:
4- Sexual Orientation (cocoa starfish or pink canoe?):
5- How many wifes?
6- How many children?
7-Occupation?
8-Relation to Mr. Stamina?
9-Will you help Mr. Stamina burry first wife at cottage?
10- How many wild animals do you intend to bring to America?
10a – If so, Will your monkeys be in a barrel?

PLEASE FILL OUT, THIS IS FOR CONFIDENTIAL TRUSTEE INFORMATION. I MUST HAVE BEFORE APPLICATION.

MR. ADAMS. I Feel that we are getting close, like the mountain near brokeback! We will soon both be full of money. I am looking forward to making giant business inside of you!

Your Best Friend and Life Partner,

Dr. Jetson Stamina

P.S. I must tell you in advance, last night night the manatee clogged the plumbing with giant brown cobra with corn and peanut skin. This went into crawl space. But more limestone = Less visit by police. Yes?

MESSING WITH SPAMMERS. PART III

2006-07-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

THE PLEADING: It seems that spammers have a higher threshold for the absolutlely daft, as long as it results in dollar bills y*all.

Dear friend,

Please. You can not just come down, you have to apply first before knowing how the bank will like to transfered the money. Just go ahead and send the details information so that i can forward to you the text of application which you shall use in applying to the bank for the release of the fund to your bank account.

Thanks,

Mr Adams.

JETSON*S REPLY #4: Let*s quote a song, give*m some details and ask if we can become business partners.

Dear Mr. Adams,
I am sorry, in the previous correspondence I was missed steak. I am ready for the money. I am ready so much! My brother-in-laws wife is happy that you are doing this for our love! We are like one.

Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed, Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed. I say love is like downs syndrome, it leaves you silly in a cage away from society, yes?

I want to know something. After we become full of money. Can we be business partners?

I want to start business in Africa with you. Canada is no longer safe with the Inuit Ski-Doo Gangs threatening our city. I have 20 year experience as Doctor of Proctology. I am an excrement business man! Can we be partners? Yes?

Ok on to business at hand...

Here are my DETAILS, please keep my details 100% confidential.

Height: 6 ft 1”
Weight: 243lbs
Eyes: Blue (some say so blue you see my soul)
Skin: Cock and asian
Hair: Salt n Peppah
Age: 30/02/69
Status: Married (but maybe we write single because I will end her, for good!, after the money comes)
Occupation: Dr. Of Proctology

I believe these are all my details. Please let me know if I forgot some details.

Thank You!

Dr. Jetson Stamina

P.S. Can we be friends and business partners? Please answer, this is important to my life.

Jetson Stamina

CHRISTMAS IS ABOUT...

Re-Gifting

YEAH IT'S LONG. I PROMISE IT'S WORTH YOUR TIME

So Counter Culture

Found Frequently Frequenting

Fat Alberts Launches New Taco Menu

Black Market Life Lesson #1022

Funnier Than Marmaduke

Things You Should Know About Jetson

Chapter 14

Letters To Bump

The Interview

Dear Bump

Things I came across in 2009

Letters To Bump

Letters To Bump

Hot or Not

Dear Bump

Whiskey

THE HILL

Black Market Life Lesson #889

Dear Bump

Ocean Fontaine

The W

Fridays...

Memories

Black Market Life Lesson #339

Penticton

Too much time on my hands...

Style vs. Warmth

Dog Poo Archeology

Interobanged!

No Word Of A Lie

CHRISTMAS

Genetic Compromise

And yeah. . .

Discuss.

What good is family if you don't take advantage of free labour

First Person Party

Remembrance Day

PANDAMONIUM!

True Story

Ludlowe Studebaker Is Special

Happy Birthday Mrs. Stamina

Happy Birthday Dr. Kilts

MESSIN* WITH THE CHECK IN DESK

RCMPAT BACHELOR PARTY: PART ONE

HOW TO GET A FREE WEDDING RING

But I regress

ARE WE COOKING ARE EGGS IN THE MICROWAVE HERE?

Going To The Chapel

Bachelor Party

By The Numbers

Tragedy upon tragedy

FRESH OUT THE HIATUS. STRAIGHT INTO THE DAFT

HIATUS

POST - BIRTHDAY THANKS

Three Dot. O Dot.

What The Kids Are Listening To These Days.

Thing To Do In 2007

Third Person Party

Santa Clause was comming. . . 9 months ago.

Squirels, Salmon and Vuhjayjay.

Scenes

HOBO THEFT ALBUM REVIEWS

Halloween is Latin for?

BUY MY T-SHiRT

Third Person Party - Red Wine and Sumo

Happy Belated Birthday Dr. Kilts.

Book Titleologist Available

Third Person Party: Part 12

OPTIONED OUT

Take The Long Way Home

New Citizens

Split Second Hurricanes And The Calm That Followed

BLOGROLLING IS EASY

Shame of sex? We can change it Leroy.

By The Numbers

The Blogpire Expands