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Traveling down the Transcanada over this blustery and very cold weekend, I came across this dude who hit the rhubarb and being a typical friendly Canadian, I stopped and offered some assistance in the form of a warm cab.

Turned the guy was a fellow Bomber fan and sent me a couple of pics of his handiwork once the sunshine starting bleeding through the clouds.

And then when I got home it turned out my neighbor Chris had cleared my driveway while fellow Rock Jock Ian Sharek had shoveled my walk.  You gotta love karma!

Cassie found this on our Rock 105.3 facebook site courtesy of a dude called Brent Carlson.

 Deemed a ‘poncho snowman’, Brent was making a snowperson with his family when he felt the urge to add a mad trapper hat, beard and Metallica t.

Brent, your rendition does me proud, even taking into account my body shape.  Well done!

I’m feeling a little lazy today and after checking some of my previous entries, I thought I’d go the ‘easy’ route and offer up an updated photo of my little Poop Factory.

 My little girl is very fortunate and so far has not shown any traits that I posess with the exception of a love for head gear.

They say sleep deprivation often conjures up million dollar ideas and if that’s the case, my three month old daughter should have instilled no less than 4,872 possible patents into my often empty noggin’ by now.  Dear Reader, I’ve seen the future and it lies within the disposable diaper industry.  As long as humankind continues to bring a culmination to the population there will forever be a demand for the throw-away, single use diaper.  I’ve done some math courtesy of my Casio calculator watch and it’s no wonder I’ve been forced to forego the top line TP for that brown recycled loose-leaf stuff.  On average, the little poop factory in my house has her diaper changed about eight times a day.  I also understand that even baby geniuses aren’t housebroken until the old age of 2 ½ years.  Let’s assume then that at 8 diapers a day over the course of 365 days a year for three years and aside from becoming a professional, non-union didy changer, you’re looking at roughly 8760 pieces of paper gaunch.  This also translates into roughly $2500 or 113 cases of beer that will never see the sunny summer side of my patio. Now I’ve been told that as a society we’ve replaced the burning of tires along with the rest of our household garbage and have adapted a more ecological outlook of preserving our world for future generations, like those wearing diapers right now. (Ironic isn’t it?)  I suggest that for new families who wish to minimalize their carbon footprint you can readily reuse your newspaper and abandon the idea of changing diapers every 120 minutes by simply adhering to the following.  Simply cover your floors and carpet with leftover newsprint and let your little ‘mini-you’ run around in their birthday suit.  Not only will you not have to fret over diaper rash, you’re now free of diaper duty when nature comes a callin’. I’ve yet to convince the Lawdy Mama (or anyone else for that matter) of my environmentally friendly ideer although I’m still waiting on a reply from the creators of Dragon’s Den.

I think this video explains all so um, enjoy.

While enroute to the dentist yesterday, I was sitting at the lights of Dumore and the TransCanada when this shows up in front of my window.

Thinking the rest of my weekend would be spent in the Crowbar Hotel, turns out the boys in blue were playing the role of ‘pilot truck’ when three of these rolled on by.  (please compare the size of these things to the traffic lights)

As much as I was hoping they were beer kegs fit for the Friendly Giant, I’m thinking they’re more inclined to be part of the oilfield.

I always like the Thursday blog because I usually just take my column (you can find it in today’s edition of the Medicine Hat News along with the bonus word) and paste it here.  Today is no exception.

It’s about that time of the year when 90 per cent of all New Year resolution makers ultimately make the following statement, ‘I’ll try again on Monday’.  Stereotypically, beginning to better yourself on the worst day of the week never made a whole lot of sense to me but then again this is coming from the guy who thought Nair was skin lotion. (And I still have the hairless body parts to prove it).  It’s also my second rate opinion that as individuals, we put too much pressure to transform ourselves from Clark Kent to Superman in a matter of minutes although I’m not sure if a unitard and matching cape is an improvement over sensible shoes. Being a man of pristine laziness and always wanting to do tomorrow what could have been today, I’ve borrowed some resolutions over the years that have me served relatively well and now I’d like to share those stolen ideas. 1. Procrastinate.  Normally viewed as a lacking quality, procrastination has saved many a work friendship when you’re no longer viewed as the over achiever.  For those who excel at not starting what they finish, this should be an easy goal for anyone who desires . . . . . . (See what I mean? It’s that easy)  2. Gain Weight.  Defy the pressure of society and Hollywood diets and be your own person, starting with that pack of ding-dongs in aisle four.  Why set yourself up to fail when it’s so much easier to succeed at ordering the dinner for three when you’re eating alone.  Someone needs to ensure that Oreo Cookie factory workers remain employed so why not gain ten pounds instead of losing ten.  3. Minimize bathing.  Not only will you save on water, you’ll save yourself time for other parts of life’s activities, like starting on your book you have no intention of finishing or giving you those extra moments to ensure your bacon is extra crispy. (Please see resolutions one and two)  It’s also a good way to test those around you who often comment that ‘they love you for who you are’.  4. Less is More.  My all time favorite and the only resolution that I’ve committed to since the beginning of the millennium; no more resolutions.  With no iron will required nor the use of daily dusty thigh-master squeezes, dedicating yourself to not having a goal is a sure fire means of guaranteed success.    Good luck and now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a stack of dishes in the sink I need to ignore.

It doesn’t sound appealing when you say it and it looks even less appetizing but a slab of liver pate on toast is a great way to start the day.

Turns out I’m a little uppity about strange meat as not just plain ole’ pate will work.  Ma & Pa got me this hunk of Notre Dame de Lourdes Live Pate for X-Mas.  Best present ever.

While on the search for empties along the side of the road, (really) Dad and I took a little stop on the Assiniboine River.

Originally when I put my two healthy index fingers to use on a weekly basis, this column was dedicated to music but I tend to stray off topic like a dog will stray in the springtime. It’s only fitting then that I should take a gander back at some of my favorite albums from the last year of the first decade of the 21^st century, in no particular order.   

 I believe the estate of Jimi Hendrix issued a new album for all the wrong reasons, namely to cash in on the greatest guitar player of all time. The silver lining in this rock and roll hazy cloud are some very cool Hendrix tracks that haven’t been heard before and so VALLEYS OF NEPTUNE was worth the investment.  

 If punk was to meet Bruce Springsteen, the end result is Gaslight Anthem.  A band that was introduced to me by a Scotch loving neighbor we’ll call Lucky, these guys have been around for a few years and like a fine box of Thunderbird wine, their music prowess only matures with age.  AMERICAN SLANG saw a lot of playtime in my iPod over the last year.  

 Being a lover of plaid and the music from the 90’s are only the two items of substance I can recall from that decade and so when Alice In Chains released a new album after 14 years, I was happier than a rubber glove salesman at a proctology convention.  BLACK GIVES WAY TO BLUE even features some piano action courtesy of Sir Elton John in a tribute to Layne Staley, the band’s original frontman.    

I’m one ‘those’ who will argue that rock was perfected in the 70’s and yet Them Crooked Vultures could yet change my mind should they choose to release a second series of works.  Boasting the same John Paul Jones who provided the backbone for Led Zeppelin, this self titled album has connotations of lava lamps and incense while still maintaining an original, new sound.  

 Loosely based conversations are often had from the confines of my gazebo after some Amaretto encouragement of ‘who’ the next big deal could be and I’m still betting some of my now defunct pennies on Avenged Sevenfold.  Ensuring that chiropractors everywhere will have future work in the form of aging head bangers, NIGHTMARE is the fifth release from Avenged Sevenfold and proof that they are on the cusp of doing great things for metal fans alike.

One of the many wonderful qualities of music is that there’s no right or wrong, unlike many a talk I’ve had with old high school teachers and the laws of physics.