Part 2 of 3

I like reading posts written by Matt. Sometimes I'll take a break half way through reading and ask myself, 'What the flip is going on here?'
Other times, upon discovering a new Binnington post hot of the press, I'll read the first sentence followed immediately by the last just to get myself primed up. Try this one for example... just the first sentence and the last. If that last line doesn't intrigue you, nothing will.

That's the beauty of a Binnington post, you never know what's coming next... you think you're getting some bread and it turns out to be a stone, you ask for a fish and he gives you a snake. Moral of the story: according to Jesus, Matt won't make a very good father.

Hey, I don't make the rules, I just misinterpret them.

In honour of Matt's 1 year of blog, I've decided to post my favorite Binnington entry from the past 12 months....

Here's to many more my good man.
(Shampagne, fireworks)
Crazy Horse

Addendum

It's come to my realization that in an earlier post (see January 17) I have either made an unintended graqmmatical mistake (check the unintentional typo related humour in that sentence) or have been the subject of blog sabotage. Now that I've piqued your curiosity I shall go on to outline exactly what has happened. And I quote:

"Firstly, I've come to the realization that I have, as they say, a diminuitive unit. Due to my assumption that you are probably totally shocked and dumbfounded by this statement I shall elaborate. I'm confident in my ability to remain a staunch law-abiding citizen because I've realized that jaywalking still exhilarates me" (Binnington? Ughhhh 01/17/07, emphasis added)

Only just today have I noticed this bizzare ending to the first sentence, not only because it doesn't make sense with the rest of the paragraph. I'd just like to clear the air by saying that I would never purposely outline to anyone that perchance happened onto this website the relative size of my junk. That being said, this statement is not only strange, it is blatantly untrue; my unit would only be diminuitive in comparison to Goliath's, an anaconda, or a redwood tree. And even if it was, it would only be because I had just gotten out of the pool; shrinkage happens to everybody and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

Uh Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about, this post wasn't intended to be a means of defending the size of my naughty bits to anyone. Let's try an addendum to the addendum.

I just want to say that I'm officially accusing Mike and/or Jon of blog tampering and that I'd challenge either of them to a size-off any day of the week.

Loser has to refer to themselves as the second "Horsewoman" of the Ablogolypse, and wear a t-shirt that says "My 'Unit' Is More Diminuitive than Matt Binnington's" for one week without washing. And it has to be hot pink, with tassles, and show some major midriff.

May the best (read: most endowed) man win,

Matt

My Ego Is So Last Monday Evening

By following Mike's lead, and in an effort to score more points with the voters by trying to show my non-egotistical side I've decided to point you folks in the direction of several brilliant online writers that are not me.

First of all, since Mike is unwilling to do so himself I will hit you with his best TWO entries of last year, mostly due to the fact I couldn't narrow things down to one. They are located here, and here respectively, and contain material not for the faint of heart, or bladder.

Also, I have singlehandedly figured out enough HTML to post links to the following online journals I regularly read:

Rage's Blog: The thoughts of Rachel rarely have anything to do with rage yet her nickname, used sparingly, still remains. She writes about a lot of neat stuff, most notably her family. If she ever discloses info about childbirth again do what I do and skip the naughty bits...

He Is Pernell: I stumbled across this blog through procrastination via reading multiple links and have enjoyed it ever since. Pernell is the pastor of a church that really excites me, and one which my brother attends. He also has a picture of a hippo's butt at the top of his page, which scores extra points for showing some skin without being promiscuous.

Poser or Prophet: Dan is a guy I'm lucky enough to know from camp who writes about really challenging and thought-provoking theological things. He also has lots of homemade T-shirts; my favourites say "I F***ing Love Boys Camp" and "Jesus Is My Girlfriend Now", although I don't know if he wears the latter one too much now, it might confuse his fiance...

And there you have it, I'm a genuinely nice guy...

Matt

42 Things Jon should Tattoo to his Chest (if he had the space)

Right now I'm in between sips of Compliments refresh Apple Juice (TM), with Viamin C added. I bought it at the grocery store for 99 cents. That's right ladies, I do my own shopping and I'm thrifty.

I love apple juice because I was denied the precious nectar for so long as a child, not because my parents didn't buy it, but because as soon as a can was discovered in the cupboard it was consumed in its entirety by the lucky pirate who happened to stumble upon the liquid gold... If you have at least one sibling, you know what I'm talking about.

So now I'm making up for lost apple juice drinking I missed in my formative years, which would explain my chronic diarrhea (I kid, I kid). Well, now that wasn't the segue I was anticipating, but it will do.

So, I've been keeping a watchful eye on our blog collective and couldn't help but notice the walk down memory lane. Well, I've got three words for you, "MSN Live Spaces is dead!" (Okay that was about 4 words and an acronym but you get the point.) We have each other now, we're united in our polyblogging.... Live Spaces is sooooo 2006.

I'm sorry. I miss it sometimes too. Late at night when I'm tossing and turning I'll remember my MSN space before it became 'Live' and cry a little.
I decided that it would hurt too much if I were to go back and relive my old Bulletless Gunslinger magic. So, instead of posting a favorite from my old blog, I'm gonna one-up all you egocentric fops (and fopette) and post my favorite from each one of yours respectively... starting with Jon.

Without further adieu...
Here it is.

Pure gold Jon.... pure gold.

Yours Truely,
Crazy Horse

sneak preview of summer 2007...

I know I am getting a little ahead of myself by writing about this now, especially because winter just decided to formally enter the picture last week. However, I am too flipping excited about some things that have taken place recently not to talk about them. They are awesome!!!
This is what they are:

Over the Christmas break, while my brother and his wife were visiting us, on their way home from a trip to minnesota to visit her family, we found out that Shannon is pregnant! Yaaaaaay! No one in my famiy - despite everyone's hopes to the contrary - thought babies would be making an appearance on the Ward family scene any time in the super near future. My brother and his wife are both doctors and Colin practically lives at the hospital right now given his chief resident's position. I can imagine that the decision to have kids would have been difficult, but we are SOOOOO excited!

THEN, a few days later, my sister Amanda and her husband were over for dinner and Amanda was looking a little green around the gills. Out of the blue, while sitting in the rocking chair in our kitchen she says rather woefully "I'm so sick!!! I am tired of living a lie and making up excuses as to why I can't hang out anymore! I'm pregnant!" I thought she was joking, until I found out she wasn't...(duh). I got to be excited all over again! The best part is that Amanda and Shannon are both due in August within 4 days of eachother. Pretty awesome!!!

So that covers the latter part of the summer, but what about the former, you ask...

Friday afternoon I got a call from my oldest sister who runs a company in Toronto. We chatted for a few minutes, and then she says: "Oh, Cas, I just wanted to let you know that we definitely have a job for you this summer. When you start on May 1st, you will be assistant producing the Curiosity Film Festival." I can't tell you how excited I was/am! After the festival is over in June, I get to do more production work for the other projects Curiosity Inc will be working on. Ridiculously amazing opportunities!

So that's that - those are some things that I have to look forward to this summer. I am feeling particularly blessed these days! It helps keep things in perspective when school seems to be a little (or a lot) much, and I start to feel like the light at the end of the tunnel is a long way off...

I will enjoy the semester here, it's going to be busy as well as really great, I think...but come May 1st, Toronto might not know what hit it.

C

I was nervous.

When I first read this challenge I guffawed

Me: *readreadreadread* "Guffaw! I surely have posts of such hilarity that I will be crowned the bloggiest horse of this ablogolypse."

However, as I typed the name of my previous blog I became nervous. What if I didn't have anything really funny. I mean, I can't, off the top of my head, remember anything particularly funny. I'm also having trouble typing. I think I need to clip my fingernails.

Better. So I began reading through old posts and came across one that was, even by my standards, fairly weak. That was until I got to the end and realized that - wait! this is bloody brilliant! If you don't think its funny, at the very least marvel at my mastery of the English language.

Voila:

Remember Cousin It? I do. For me he's become a tragic hero of sorts. But that is neither here nor there.

I was thinking about Cousin It the other day, and I started to wonder if there was a whole race of Cousin It's. And if so, do they have a ruler, a king or queen? And what would this monarch be called? The Great It? The Wondrous It? Miss Most In Need Of Scissors? After much deliberationg I decided he/she would probably be called the Grand It. I then proceeded to write this poem in dedication:

How much granite could the Grand It grind if the Grand It could grind granite
-J.B. Sinclair, Poet-for-hire

not so fast...

In honour of Matt's blogging anniversary, I will proceed to beat him at his own game. I've narrowed my selection of numerous guffaw-inducing posts down to just a couple. The first is a theorem I divised last Valentine's day. I was single at the time and observed the world at a safe distance. In any case, hilarity ensued.
The second is actually an email I wrote recently (don't tell me it doesn't count, becuase I will fight you. It counts because I said so and it's funny.) I was attempting to give some advice to someone [I will give you a hint...Matt] regarding their fantasy sports basketball team, with which they may or not be in love. Hard to say. In any case, my advice is airtight just like my theorem. I hope that you *rotfl* while/after perusing both!


love theorem...
In the spirit of Valentine's Day, what follows is my dissertation on why people tend to hook up less in the winter. I have no scientific or factual evidence to support this claim, merely a set of logical and well-observed suppositions. I am sure that upon critically thinking through them, and hitching a ride on my train of thought, you'll come to be of the same opinion. If not, well, I'm smarter than you anyway, so just take my word(s) for it.

OK, so, you'd think that it would make more sense for more hookups to occur in the winter when people are cold and seeking heat from one another. Arguably (at least in terms of a Kingston winter) jackets, coats, scarves, hats, Uggs, longjohns, hoodies, or any other manner of insulation, are all inadequate. We gravitate towards other people to preserve some semblance of comfort during our frigid existence. However, i posit that this is only the case up to a point. That point is reached upon the experience of any sort of precipitation, wind, or combination of the two (and once again, given that it's a Kingston winter, you are likely to get the latter, involving snow, rain and hail).

Thus far: P = Precipitation W= wind.

The experience of said combination causes SF, or Squinty Face. Squinty Face is the result of trying to shelter ones eyes from the onslaught of the various forms of P, in tandem with the gale force of W. It involves the eyelashes and lids coming together to form the smallest of clefts through which to see. I contend that some people will close their eyes entirely, but I do not address this asinine phenomenon within the confines of this theorem. In conjuction with the affected eyes, the top lip of an individual tends to rise above the teeth into a sneer of sorts. The nose also wrinkles, which causes the cheeks to bunch. All elements combine into the seemingly permanent cold-weather expression that I refer to as Squinty Face.

Due to the fact that absolutely no one is attractive (and therefore undesireable or "U") when sporting the aforedescribed (TM) expression, I have derived the following equation:

(P)(W)^SF = U

An individual's degree of U is directly corelative to SF, which is directly corelative to P and W, which is an absolute truth of the geographic location of Kingston and surrounding area (and I suspect, most of Canada and the American midwest).

There you have it. This is why I have heard more people lamenting the lack of a valentine today, than the sound of lovers cooing into one another's ears. (I suppose if I could hear the latter, it would beg the question as to why I was standing so close, or why the lovers were cooing so loudly...showoffs...i hate PDAs...but I digress)

I think you will see that this theorem is in fact, airtight. The evidence to support it is insurmountable. Thusly, I challenge anyone to send me, or post a link to, a picture of someone with SF that is attractive. SF is a serious winter affliction not to be taken lightly, however, looking on the bright side - summer is just around the corner, and even if you're squinting into the sun, at least you're showing a little more skin. *Brrrow*.

Happy VD to everyone,

CAS


helpful hints and tricky tips
I was reading through the sports pages this morning, and I thought I would help you out a little bit, in case you haven't had time to keep up with your F-sports pools. Unlikely, I know, but sometimes someone else's vision can really clear things up for you. These suggestions might just rocket you out of your current position (even if it's first) and put you in the stratosphere of winning - untouchable by anyone.

Here goes. These are some folks I think you might want to consider for your teams, and why:

Mardy Collins: I have no idea what his stats are like, but he is suspended for 6 games for a scrap with the Nuggets. I know he won't get you any points sitting on the bench right now, but think long term - when he gets back, he'll surely be the baddest 'MC' around!

Nene: also suspended, but just for one game. This is peanuts, and I'm pretty sure it's probably becuase of his name, lucky guy! One name = one game. You might want a player on your squad who can pretty much get away with being a little dirty! Get those fists up, son!

Steve Nash: Even if it's just for posterity, you are going to want to have the only white guy EVER who (will probably) be voted MVP thrice. That's crazy, man. Get on it. Plus, TJ Ford says he's "smart and crafty" if that doesn't say ringing endorsement, i don't know what does.

Gilbert Arenas: THe man scored SIXTY POINTS! THat's ridiculous. Against Kobe Bryant, no less. I bet you all the arenas in the world couldn't hold his talent *cymbal crash* and he's obviously pretty good at drawing fouls; always an asset

Jason Kidd: only men accomplish what this guy does. he recorded his EIGHTY FIRST career triple-double last night, and though that might make your coffee pretty gross, it's delicious on the court.


I don't even know if you have the right guys in that 5 to start them all...I will guess not. However, these guys should be so good, that they could theoretically play anywhere. Think about it. It just might be your chance for greatness.


That's it, folks! Thanks for thinking I'm awesome.

C-horse.

Ughhh.

Since no one has enough metaphorical cajones (we here are a unisex hair salon blog of course) to challenge my stake on 2006 blogging supremacy I thought it best to write another entry in 2007, to continue my unchallenged run into this year. Thus I present two things that I've spent a lot of time thinking about recently - both in coincidental relation to my life in crime.

Firstly, I've come to the realization that I have, as they say, a diminuitive unit. Due to my assumption that you are probably totally shocked and dumbfounded by this statement I shall elaborate. I'm confident in my ability to remain a staunch law-abiding citizen because I've realized that jaywalking still exhilarates me, in ways that cause me to now spontaneously nickname myself Matt: Thrillseeker Extraordinaire - My Middle Name is Danger, and by that I Mean John (TM). I figure I won't be eagerly looking to commit some sort of unlawful act when I still get a rush waling across a busy road not at a crosswalk. One way streets are purely for a small high, two way roads make me feel like a real man, and I sweat a little when going by just after a police cruiser. I can't imagine what would happen if I tried to cross a highway, I probably would lose my mind in a fit of pure euphoria. I live life on the edge...

Second, I've been poring a lot over what I would do if someone tried to steal my wallet while I was peeing at a(n)? urinal. I figure I would have a few options:

1) Turn around and pee on the guy
2) Turn around and pee on the floor, hoping to create a pool of slippery, brutal-fall-causing liquid
3) Turn around immediately and try to hit the guy in a face with a urine stream of knockout-causing strength
4) Turn around, swear, and then chase the guy down once I was finished my business
5) Turn around, tuck prematurely, and chase the guy down while peeing my pants

If I had a choice I think I would choose 3, mostly because it would make for the best story, even if it didn't quite work.

Mattoilet

PS - I started writing this last week, when the first paragraph actually mad sense.

Self-Proclaimed Champion

Happy Anniversary everybody! Oh, you may be wondering exactly what sort of anniversary you might be celebrating... well January 2007 marks the completion of my first year of the adventure I like to call blogging, and in order to celebrate I decided to post my favourite entry from the past year. Also be sure to peep the limited edition, digitally remastered content in the re-release (marked by a *).

That said, I can think of nothing better than to issue a public challenge to my blogmates to get the competitive juices flowing. So, Mike, Jon, and Cas, I dare you to post your favourite personal entry from the past year if you even think it has a remote chance to stand up to mine, let alone be included on the same webpage. We all know which of the horsepeople is pacing this here blogging apocolypse; I'll give you a hint...

Me

So readers feel free to comment on your favourite once everyone has posted, or just comment in general on whatever you feel. It doesn't even have to be relevant, or understandable, or even in English.

Um, Yeah! Here goes...

Pretty Sweet Band Names

The other day I was bumming around and listening to Jimmy Eat World when I was hit by a ridiculous band-name related epiphany. I'll let you in on my thought process:

Thought 1 -Jimmy Eat World is a pretty sweet name for a band
Thought 2 - Jimmy Eat World is a sentence that is totally ridiculous grammatically
Thought 3 - Jimmy Eat World is a sentence that is totally ridiculous grammatically because it's just a name, then a verb, and some random noun
Thesis - Jimmy Eat World must not be the only pretty sweet name for a band that is just a name, then a verb, and some random noun

So then I started coming up with pretty sweet band names of my own, here are a few:

Martha Urinate Firetruck
Eugene Lick Isotope
Gertrude Backflip Vaseline
Aladdin Jumpkick Envelope
Napoleon Ransack Pineapple
Beowulf Interview Electron
Geoffrey Fight Aristocrat
Matt Is Awesomest-Thing
Erica Breakdance Underwear*
Logan Uppercut Detergent*
Macy Somersault Sunglasses*
Edna Snuggle Elastic*
Sigfreid Digest Urchin*

It's actually a mildly amusing exercise, so try coming up with a few on your own!

Matt

PS - If you or anyone you know is actually in a band and want to use these pretty sweet band names go right ahead, I won't be needing them for awhile anyway.

Socially Butterflied

After being away from school for a number of weeks during the holidays I returned to mighty Kingston ON for a wild new semester. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how many people go to my school and subsequently, how many of them that I sort of know that I run into around campus. By nature I am sort of an introvert, and don't really go out of my way to say hello to mild acquaintances or people I've only just met. I've learned from past experience that this doesn't always sit well with the people who think I should be saying hello to them; I've been told I'm a jerk through the intermediaries of various better acquainted friends more than once. So I decided to make an effort this year to go from no acknowledgement of sort-of-friends to awkward eye contact, followed by a head nod, potentially an attention-drawing wave, and maybe if I'm feeling extra inspired a full-on hello. I might even hug someone; especially if there's a good chance I think the gesture would be reciprocated, otherwise I'd go from jerk to creepy hug fiend, and that wouldn't be good especially if I was sent to prison for assault and there continued my hug-giving ways. I'll just stick to audible affection.

With this new resolution in mind I headed off to my first day of class eager to awkwardly ask someone about their Christmas holidays, expecting little but a brief sum-up of "good" and the following painfully awkward silence once I'd run out of material. However my plans were thwarted by two variables I wasn't expecting; I'll call these Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 1 & 2.

Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 1 = The Sun

The glare experienced on my 25 minute walk to class was the greatest I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I was partially afraid the cause was an enormous solar flare rapidly speeding toward Earth to wipe out all of its inhabitants; luckily I often trot around in the winter with a thick coating of SPF 80 on my exposed skin - just to keep up appearances. So I wasn't worried about being vaporized. However, I was worried about being unable to clearly see anything coming toward me and thus felt justified in mostly looking at the ground or squinting awkwardly at oncoming persons, cars, and trees. I don't think I hit anything, but I'm big enough not to feel pain when plowing through small shrubs and 5'3" girls. I gave up engaging anyone fairly immediately, mostly because I thought God was giving me a sign not to, but not actually.

Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 2 = Crazy Girls

I'm convinced that the ongoing trend of girls wearing sunglasses that cover their entire face is an actually premeditated act of the entire female sex to frustrate me. As evidenced from before, it's hard enough discerning faces in bright retina-imploding light without anybody wearing face-shieldish frames. Now some of my good friends who I would legitimately say hello to look like 17 different other girls whose names aren't Sarah (I've discovered this in an embarassing fashion more than once before). In a bizarre twist of fate I just witnessed someone who fits exactly the description I just outlined slip and fall on the sidewalk outside. Take that embarassing tumble on behalf of the entire womanly persuasion, you mega-sunglassed crazy girl... Snap!

So sorry if I've refrained from properly saying Hello to you on the street before, I was crying on the inside too...

Just Joking,

Matt

Holiday Happening's

Most Favorite Christmas Gift:

Scene: Christmas Eve Dinner Party with relatives
Act 1 Scene 1: Enter Grandpa, sits down at kitchen beside Mike, who is busy small talking with uncle Gary.

Grandpa: 'So I saw that movie "Borat."'
Mike: 'Excuse me, what?'
Grandpa: .... 'Borat'
Mike: (unable to respond due to breath stopping fits of laughter)

Yes, by far the greatest Christmas gift this year was the discovery that my Grandfather --retired Police Chief of Hamilton Wentworth-- had taken my Grandmother to see the movie 'Borat.'

Second Most Favorite Christmas Gift:

Act 1 Scene 2: Grandma discovers that Grandpa has let the cat out of the bag.
Grandma (smiling bashfully): 'I was hoping he wasn't gonna tell anybody... it was disgusting'

And just when I thought I was beginning to compose myself.

Whatever posessed my Grandparents to see the movie I'll never know, but I'm sure glad they did. Merry Christmas to me, best two presents I got this year.... makes me laugh just writing this.

Holiday Happening 1: Shaving Chest

I shaved my chest. It was an accident - I was only trying to shave an 'M' into the chest hair between my (small) nipples but it turned out for the worst and so - everything had to go. Don't worry though... it'll be back in about 4-5 business days.

Holiday Happening 2: Shaving Head

The youthfulness I felt after seeing my chest bare after all these years inspired me to move the razor North (and only North for all those polluted minds). It was a bad idea, I look like 'Curious George.'


Holiday Happening 3: Beard Growing

Seeing Dave B.'s winter beard last year at the Third Space inspired me to try growing my very own. From December 21 - March 21... its nothin' but beard for this guy.

Holiday Happening 4: Brother's Engagement.

Yup, its true - one of my kin has found himself a life mate. I'm pretty happy for a variety of reasons.
a) My mother is baby crazy. Ever since my brothers and I have had the ability to procreate my mother has been patiently (sometimes not so patiently) waiting for us to get married so we can have babies of our own. (When I say of 'our own' what I mean is babies for my mother). Now that one of us is one step closer to babies, it takes the pressure off the rest of us. Here's to Josh, for takin' one for the team.

b) What was B?? Can't remember...

c) His fiancee (let's call her Chantal) is Dutch, and the Dutch are practically baby making machines - I'd say she's got at least four in her. Which means I should be eclipsed from my mothers watchful eyes for the next 7 - 10 years.

d) Did I mention my mother likes babies?

e) Chantal also manages a 'Subway.' Every time I visit she makes me a free sub of my choosing. Once I even felt bad for taking advantage of her kindness and so only ordered a 'Cold Cut Trio' (cheapest on the menu) but she would have none of it and upgraded my sub to something more delicious with bacon. I love her.
I probably shouldn't be disclosing this classified Subway information on a public space... but I don't think she reads this. At least I hope she doesn't... otherwise I won't get anymore free subs and my life will be ruined.

Anyway, welcome to the family Chantal, have lots of babies with my brother.
No really, lots.

Sincerely,
The Mike Horse.

Belts

First off, let me second Cas on congratulating Terrence and Helen. See Terrence, I told you Helen would forgive you for borrowing her prom dress to help me clean the dried red wine off my windows.

I've started collecting cool belts. I didn't mean for it to happen. I never decided to become a belt guy. It's really the dumbest thing to collect - I mean the only way anyone will ever know is if you become one of those tools who tuck their t-shirt into their belt to show it off. And I really don't want to be a tool.

But now I have a belt collection(A pretty kickin' one, too), mostly as a result of people who love me giving me belts as gifts. This is a dilemma of unprecedented proportions, and so my New Year's Resolution has been to hide in my bed until my belts grow old and ugly or global warming kicks in and I don't need to wear a shirt anymore.

Of course, then I'll need to hit the gym and buy one of these.

One last word on belts. There recently been a remarkable innovation in belt technology (I think the fact that there is still room for functional belt improvement after 8 milienia of civilisation is evidence that maybe we really did come from primordial ooze) Half of my belts, instead of sporting the traditional metal loop and prong closure have a much more convenient hook system. Unbuckling, which used to be a time consuming two handed manuevre, can now be accomplished with the simple flick of the thumb. If you think the few seconds this saves is inconsequential then you have never had a three hour meeting with the president of a multinational corporation after getting the extra spicy pad thai at the sketchy chinese place around the corner, and then had to make small talk about the new Michael Buble album before breaking the record for the 100 metre (8.97s) making your way to the little boys room.

And with that, I'll leave you.

-jon