Sunday, April 30, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Always Fresh
Is Tim Hortons a big deal in the States? Here in the northlands, it's something like the McDonalds of Canada. And Steeltown boasts the original outlet, the fabled Store #1 that Indiana Jones sets out to find in the unproduced fourth movie of the series.
It took me a while to locate the place, despite some reliable intelligence. I had to fend off carnivorous robotic pigeons, shape-shifting dumpsters, and poison-soaked torpedo shrimp, amongst other perils.
These cages housed zombie ferrets, before I dispatched them to Hades.
Cutting back a swath of strangling vines and cursing the swarms of malaria-rife gnats, I suddenly came upon the object of my quest.
The first Tim Hortons shop looks much like any of them, except for a single retro sign, and a plaque on the wall. Several rotting skeletons heaped beside the garbage can warned me not to tarry too long in the parking lot.
The interior is a little smaller than most stores, with about six tables and two glass cases with memorabilia. The approach to the cash register is awkward, requiring the intrepid coffee drinker to avoid stepping on the white linoleum tiles and keep only to the red ones, lest he be pelted with day-old Hawaiian sprinkled Timbits.
The lady working behind the counter was a little camera shy, and she told me I would have to come back tomorrow to meet the oldest surviving cashier, who has been working there since '67.
The place was simply teeming with pastries, but which ones
contained deadly nitroglycerin, and which ones would
bring the Visions?
But I wasn't after coffee--black death we call it in archeology circles. No, I was after the rare and valuable Boston Cream donut, hoping to bring a specimen back to civilization in order to dissect it in front of my graduate class on 20th Century Confectionaries.
Walking carefully home, my prize donut in one trembling hand, I didn't have my backpack. On a deserted strech of sidewalk, two locals inquired about "buying" my camera, which was dangling around my neck. The situation threatened to turn violent, and I was considering throwing my donut at them and making a run for it.
Beware, the robo-elk!
Then I remembered the festive Norwegian Elk Summoning Dance, always good for disarming a potentially hostile situation. Soon we were laughing and joking like old friends, and I took the opportunity to sell the rogues some old vinyl siding that had been sitting around my yard for months. Exchanging e-mail addresses, I managed to make a graceful exit before the street was flooded with stampeding Norwegian elk.
Double elk milk, please
Well, there you have it: another Steeltown first.
It took me a while to locate the place, despite some reliable intelligence. I had to fend off carnivorous robotic pigeons, shape-shifting dumpsters, and poison-soaked torpedo shrimp, amongst other perils.
These cages housed zombie ferrets, before I dispatched them to Hades.
Cutting back a swath of strangling vines and cursing the swarms of malaria-rife gnats, I suddenly came upon the object of my quest.
The first Tim Hortons shop looks much like any of them, except for a single retro sign, and a plaque on the wall. Several rotting skeletons heaped beside the garbage can warned me not to tarry too long in the parking lot.
The interior is a little smaller than most stores, with about six tables and two glass cases with memorabilia. The approach to the cash register is awkward, requiring the intrepid coffee drinker to avoid stepping on the white linoleum tiles and keep only to the red ones, lest he be pelted with day-old Hawaiian sprinkled Timbits.
The lady working behind the counter was a little camera shy, and she told me I would have to come back tomorrow to meet the oldest surviving cashier, who has been working there since '67.
The place was simply teeming with pastries, but which ones
contained deadly nitroglycerin, and which ones would
bring the Visions?
But I wasn't after coffee--black death we call it in archeology circles. No, I was after the rare and valuable Boston Cream donut, hoping to bring a specimen back to civilization in order to dissect it in front of my graduate class on 20th Century Confectionaries.
Walking carefully home, my prize donut in one trembling hand, I didn't have my backpack. On a deserted strech of sidewalk, two locals inquired about "buying" my camera, which was dangling around my neck. The situation threatened to turn violent, and I was considering throwing my donut at them and making a run for it.
Beware, the robo-elk!
Then I remembered the festive Norwegian Elk Summoning Dance, always good for disarming a potentially hostile situation. Soon we were laughing and joking like old friends, and I took the opportunity to sell the rogues some old vinyl siding that had been sitting around my yard for months. Exchanging e-mail addresses, I managed to make a graceful exit before the street was flooded with stampeding Norwegian elk.
Double elk milk, please
Well, there you have it: another Steeltown first.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Endtime Adjuster on TV?
That old arch-nemesis of Fakie Agents and left-leaning millennialists, the Endtime Adjuster, has been discovered in the least likely of places. After not hearing from the fiend for many months, we thought we might have seen the last of the apocalyptic insurance salesman. But new intelligence has suggested that he might have been hiding, all this time, in plain view on a popular television game show.
Psycho-linguistic analysis of writing samples from this blog, compared with several dry cleaning receipts and one grocery bill recovered from the abandoned wreck of one the Adjuster's time machines indicates that the mysterious figure known as The Banker on the hit TV show "Deal or No Deal" may actually be the Endtime Adjuster.
Could this be our man?
What's worse, the scoundrel is up to his old tricks. Fakie intelligence has been able to gather, through a complex series of wiretaps and satellite signal shunts, that the Adjuster may be conspiring with host of "Deal or No Deal", Howie Mandel, to attempt to buy the souls of the show's contestants.
While appearing to communicate with Howie via cell phone to offer amounts of money to buy back the contestant's attache case, it appears that the Adjuster/Banker could actually be coaching Howie on just how much pressure to apply to get the contestant to buy an Endtime Insurance Package.
Here is an excerpt of one such intercepted communication:
If our suspicions are correct, the Adjuster might make the bold move of trying to lure one of the Fakie Agents onto the show. We're activating an Anti-Rapture sleeper cell to infiltrate the studio audience and see if they can gain more information regarding the Adjuster's possible future moves. In the mean time, we're sifting through re-runs of the program to decode any hidden transmission that might have been made to other subversive elements such as the elusive Xister, Maskatron or Spirella.
Psycho-linguistic analysis of writing samples from this blog, compared with several dry cleaning receipts and one grocery bill recovered from the abandoned wreck of one the Adjuster's time machines indicates that the mysterious figure known as The Banker on the hit TV show "Deal or No Deal" may actually be the Endtime Adjuster.
Could this be our man?
What's worse, the scoundrel is up to his old tricks. Fakie intelligence has been able to gather, through a complex series of wiretaps and satellite signal shunts, that the Adjuster may be conspiring with host of "Deal or No Deal", Howie Mandel, to attempt to buy the souls of the show's contestants.
While appearing to communicate with Howie via cell phone to offer amounts of money to buy back the contestant's attache case, it appears that the Adjuster/Banker could actually be coaching Howie on just how much pressure to apply to get the contestant to buy an Endtime Insurance Package.
Here is an excerpt of one such intercepted communication:
Adjuster: I think this one (contestant) is ready to cave. Next commercial break, push the Endtime Nuclear Jump Suit and the Soul Non-Reclamation Clause.
Howie: I have no idea what you're talking about, but this is the best gig I've had in years, so Ok.
Howie may or may not be involved.
If our suspicions are correct, the Adjuster might make the bold move of trying to lure one of the Fakie Agents onto the show. We're activating an Anti-Rapture sleeper cell to infiltrate the studio audience and see if they can gain more information regarding the Adjuster's possible future moves. In the mean time, we're sifting through re-runs of the program to decode any hidden transmission that might have been made to other subversive elements such as the elusive Xister, Maskatron or Spirella.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Keep on Dancing
All that religion stuff is stressfull and complicated. I think I need a vacation--a vacation from vacationing!
Problem is, I'm too broke to find a job. Luckily, there are always disco records; they never fail to sooth my soul, even when eternal salvation becomes more than I can handle.
Long time Fakie readers will remember this classic video.
Problem is, I'm too broke to find a job. Luckily, there are always disco records; they never fail to sooth my soul, even when eternal salvation becomes more than I can handle.
Long time Fakie readers will remember this classic video.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
For the Love of Disco
Being an intrepid chronicler of the glory that was Disco,
I recently added these disks to my collection:
When disco man and woman meet on the dance floor--watch out!
Dear Dan: your crappy disco record is safe with me.
And the Sleaziest Santa Ever award goes too...
I recently added these disks to my collection:
When disco man and woman meet on the dance floor--watch out!
Dear Dan: your crappy disco record is safe with me.
And the Sleaziest Santa Ever award goes too...
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Fakie Promotion
10 000th visitor gets a free comment!
*no salesperson will call
comments subject to word verification
*no salesperson will call
comments subject to word verification
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
9 More Hits...
....and we will be at 10 000 page views. Weeeha! But, if we factor in the number of times people blink when reading a typical post, I'm sure we're up into the millions of page views. And you know what the Greeks used to say (before their entire civilization went down the toilet due to that Socrates fellow): "You never read the same blogpost twice". They knew their stuff, those Greeks.
Well, thanks for all the scrutiny, and stay old!
Found Photo #339-PP41X
Well, thanks for all the scrutiny, and stay old!
Found Photo #339-PP41X
Monday, April 10, 2006
The Quest for WOT
The Fakiegrind Extra-Terrestrial Linguistics Analysis Team has been working around the clock for the past two days, trying to decipher the three letter communication adorning the screen of the television-shaped mother ship seen landing somewhere on the shores of Baffin Island over the week-end.
The team came up with several well-considered interpretations for the word/symbol/random inscription/call-it-what-you-will, leaving us no other choice but to fire them, following Occam's Law of inverse Scrutiny, which states that any explanation arrived at by a team of highly trained professionals couldn't possibly be the correct one.
To continue investigating the enigma, we have hired the renown earthquake researcher, Styles Rubbermop, to develop the world's very first earthquake-proof coffee mug, reasoning that, without peace of mind regarding our ability to imbibe caffeinated beverages during periods of seismic instability, we could never undertake the delicate task of translating alien communications into comprehensible earth meanings.
Dr. Rubbermop has already produced a working prototype mug, from which I am sipping this very moment, when we are just about to flip on the Roboshrub Inc. Random Earthquake Generator we bought through eBay last week. Once the dust settles, if the joe is still hot in the mug, we'll take another stab at the meaning of WOT.
Proposal for construction of the extra-large cup, spring 2008.
There is still no word from Dept. H's Captain Canuck and Nelvana, who left for Baffin Island several days ago to investigate the alleged UFO landing.
The team came up with several well-considered interpretations for the word/symbol/random inscription/call-it-what-you-will, leaving us no other choice but to fire them, following Occam's Law of inverse Scrutiny, which states that any explanation arrived at by a team of highly trained professionals couldn't possibly be the correct one.
To continue investigating the enigma, we have hired the renown earthquake researcher, Styles Rubbermop, to develop the world's very first earthquake-proof coffee mug, reasoning that, without peace of mind regarding our ability to imbibe caffeinated beverages during periods of seismic instability, we could never undertake the delicate task of translating alien communications into comprehensible earth meanings.
Dr. Rubbermop has already produced a working prototype mug, from which I am sipping this very moment, when we are just about to flip on the Roboshrub Inc. Random Earthquake Generator we bought through eBay last week. Once the dust settles, if the joe is still hot in the mug, we'll take another stab at the meaning of WOT.
Proposal for construction of the extra-large cup, spring 2008.
There is still no word from Dept. H's Captain Canuck and Nelvana, who left for Baffin Island several days ago to investigate the alleged UFO landing.
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