At what point in your life do people stop asking you what your hometown is, or where you’re from?  Just today someone asked me and I said Waterloo. That’s where I live. Thats where I have mortgage payments for my house, but apparently that’s not quite what they meant.  Sometimes people will ask me (generally around the holiday times) “Oh are you going home?”  And I say, No, my home is 5 miles away, I’m driving to my parents house that’s 180+ miles away.   How long do I have to live somewhere before I can call this my hometown, or even just my home?  Is there a magic age that once you’re so old you can officially call the place you reside in your hometown?  If you were to ask your parents, aunts, uncles, friends what their hometown is what would they say?

Technorati Tags: hometown

If you ever listen to Bob and Tom, or watch Comics Unleashed (I’m embarrassed to admit that one) then hopefully you’ve noticed how annoying it is to watch/listen to comics in a multi comic/interview atmosphere.  It’s possibly the worst type of competition ever….

Here’s how it goes down.  We have a couple of people interviewing (setting up) comics.  What is it really? The worst show ever… the comics pretty much battle against themselves trying for the most airtime possible.  The interviewer asks them a questions that they generically relate to some part of their bit.  They take the slight transition and turn it into a  3 minute portion of their stand up act until one of the other comics jumps in and steals the limelight.  This continues until one of them gets to risque’ or there is a commercial break.

I’m sure they are genuinely funny people, I mean they are stand up comics and all, but it seems so scripted.  Maybe I’m the only one that is annoyed by this.  Here, let me set you up.  Do you drink? Or travel? or what do you think about women, or races other than your own?

ENOUGH!

Technorati Tags: comics, stand up, stand up comics

Well with the warmer (not single digit) weather we’ve had this week I decided to get on the ball and start chipping away at what used to be my driveway. So, tools in hand I set out to do some manual labor.

I initially attempted to use a metal spade to chop the ice into neat little blocks and watch it float down Auburn St. Creek like lone melting icebergs floating off into the ocean care of global warming. That however proved more difficult than I imagined. And by “more difficult than I imagined” I mean pretty much impossible. Apparently my little arms can’t make enough downward force to get more than an inch or maybe 2 into the blocks of ice. So… on to the next weapon (tool)

The tool of choice proved to be a large stone sledge hammer like wedge. However after a good 45 minutes of smashing I managed to break it and the head no longer stays on for more than a swing, maybe two, so my driveway remains an Ice highway. As you can see from the pictures (in the gallery mostly) The ice at the end of my drive has changed from a gentle sloping ramp to a good 8 inch drop off. What progress!?

Technorati Tags: ice