Happy Canada Day…. Canada, er I mean to Canada… uh… Canadians out there. It turns out that Chris was right and that it was called Dominion Day, but I was right in saying that was during the times of the Commonwealth.

Google Canada hasn’t posted any graphic yet.

Happy 60th Birthday to Debbie Harry!

Happy Birthday to the cranky black man that I used to work with!

On my half-mile walk from the car to my desk here at work, I realized that I left my coffee on the roof of my car. It is warming now as I write this. I am going out to lunch soon and I expect to see a hot cup of coffee with a thin layer of sun-dried cheese on the top.

I’m starting to question the hygiene of the waterless toilet. The concept is that the magic of gravity waives the need for flush valves or water. The company I work for installed these urinals in the washrooms that were most frequented by visitors and upper level management, but just recently I’ve seen them installed in the areas that I like to mark my territory. To my delight, I now have a relatively short distance to walk to get to these toilets. I am not impressed by the shape or size, as the they are meant to look like regular urinals, but the fact that urine swishes around the bowl and beads up as it approaches the trap. The web sites that feature this marvel of technology claim that this ultra-hygienic and odorless.

From what I know about being a man…. it is not possible for a urinal to be odorless. Understand that the odorless aspect only covers the vapors coming out of the trap, and though my building isn’t teeming with drunken clumsy executives smells and stray…… stuff is inevitable. I’m going to go have a goat cheese and asparagus salad with a watermelon for dessert.

My body is slowly exacting its revenge on me. The wonderful sensations of indulgence are now catching up with me. My hubris levels are low and I’m starting to fear that that my love of decadence will kill me. I ask my family (who work in hospitals) if they have seen [insert ailment here] in young people. Slowly moving past the age group of young, healthy, and ‘still growing’ I am now at risk for all of those scary diseases.

I dread to find a doctor. The last general practitioner I had, was the same office that my parents went to. Despite the rampant malpractice lawsuits, this office has mixed up my father’s records with mine. To my amazement, I went through a few personal questions with the med-tech before she realized that I wasn’t a 60 year old man, smoker, with a heart condition. To even further the malefaction, the internist blamed me for a heart monitor that my dad broke.

Ailing eyesight, headaches, chest pain, and general joint pain are now starting to irritate me. I now must figure out my supposedly phenominal health plan and choose a doctor…