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In this day and age, reality TV is the new sitcom.  Nobody wants to see an acted response to a real-life situation anymore.  People want to see "real" (and I use that term very loosely) people reacting to completely fabricated scenarios.  And I must admit, from time to time, I partake in the guilty pleasure that is the inescapable leviathan of reality TV.  Some shows, however, such as the Simple Life, I refuse to even indulge with a trial viewing.  And it's getting to the point where it seems like any drunken, slurred idea can spiral into a primetime, hour-long TV show.  On that note, here are my reccomendations for Fox's next season of reality TV.

Lord of the Fly Girls: Hosted by J. Lo.  Twelve women, clad in flourescent spandex and hoop earrings, are abandoned on a desert island and left to fight to the death over two tubs of Dippity-Do.  Hilarity ensues.

The Boy of Cooking: High-class clientel is treated to a delicious "mystery" dish.  The twist is, it's made of people!  (didn't they do that in Soylent Green?  Oh well.)  Hilarity ensues.

Taming of the Shrewd: A team of twelve skinny, slightly malnourished and overcaffeinated "nerds" is released into a maze, in pursuit of a $1million prize, to be divided equally... by those who survive being chased by a rabid grizzly bear!  Will they work together as a team or leave the weaker ones behind to throw the bear off the scent?  Hilarity ensues.

The Great Godfrey: Seven unsuspecting contestants are trapped in a small room with Gilbert Godfrey.  Hilarity ensues.

MacDeath: Contestants compete to see who can eat the most McDonald's without dying.  (Yes, we, the producers, realise this is another recycled idea, but then again... aren't all reality shows?)  Hilarity... and important life lessons... ensue.

Laughterhouse 5: Ten flash-in-the-pan comics are forced to cohabitate.  Potential castmembers include: Howard Stern, the American cast of the Office, Tom Green, Fran Drescher, Carrot Top, and Pauly Shore.  Hilarity... doesn't ensue.

Catch Her in the Lie: A husband, suspecting his wife of being unfaithful, hires the crew of the show to follow her around and catch her on tape in compromising situations, which will then be broadcast on primetime national TV!  Hilarity ensues.

Journey to the Center of the Birth: In this hard-hitting real-life look at child birth, a camera crew actually takes up residence in a pregnant woman to detail the thoughts and feelings of an unborn child just before being cruelly thrust into the world.  A hard-hitting look at the trials and tribulations of fetal life in this day and age.

Mesh 22: Intellectually challenged high school football players injured before the age of eighteen, who never even got to play college ball, are given one more shot at a NFL contract.  The twist?  The contract is as a waterboy!  The losers are relegated to a life of sweeping up at the local 7-eleven.  Hilarity and physical violence ensue.

L'il Hercules.

Have you HEARD about this kid? I don't really follow the body-building world, so I guess this slipped under my radar, but thanks to TLC I spent an hour watching this kid. Richard Sandrak is eleven years old, and pound-for-pound the strongest person alive. (http://www.richardsandrak.com/) He benches three times his own body weight. I know a national-caliber football player who can't do that (then again, he weighs about 350 so...). This poor kid is from Ukraine and grew up with fitness-freak parents. His dad had him training six to seven HOURS PER DAY at SIX YEARS OLD. He was feeding the kid some sort of "mystery powder" that he refused to divulge the contents of (steroids much?). They showed footage of this kid at eight or so, at some bodybuilding competition, meeting Arnold Schwarzenegger (da Governator), who was proudly shaking the kid's hand and congratulating him. Did it maybe cross your mind that that's NOT normal? Or healthy? You need testosterone to build muscle, and there's no way an eight year old naturally has that much testosterone. Hell, most fully grown men don't. Which is why most guys who look like that (at thirty) are taking supplements. Anyway, eventually the father got arrested for assault on the mother and kids. Child abuse in more ways than one, if you ask me. Now this kid is auditioning to star in "Tiny Tarzan", a potentially upcoming Disney movie. Yeah, good one, Hollywood, let's encourage this.

I have officially been on my bike four days in a row. Yay, spring! I went out for a mountain ride yesterday. It was cold and wet, but this time I didn't bail on the ice. I could only stay out for about an hour, because the pesky sun seems to want to go down around 6:45. Darn it. I should have been in the weight room, but it was 54F when I left the office. So what if my legs are smoked and I haven't been in the weight room at all this week? Sometimes it's just not about training.

I woke up at 5:30 this morning because I was sitting upright in my bed, completely asleep. The only thing that woke me up was the pain because my head was completely resting on my bad shoulder. It made me wonder a) what the hell I was doing and b) how often I have been doing it. I wonder if some of the problems I've been having with feeling misaligned are because I've been sleeping sitting up.... nah.

There is a new initiative here at my company. The drinking fountain is producing water that *gasp* has air bubbles in it. This was apparantly discussed at length at the last manager's meeting (and they wonder why we have productivity issues around here. I wonder what else was on the agenda: the carpet creates static electricity?) They collectively decided that the appropriate course of action would be to put an "out of order" sign on said appliance. Yeah, that will keep more people from quitting. I wonder if I should tell them that if they just let the water sit for about three minutes, those bubbles will magically disappear.

During lunch today I had a choice between clicking the "random blog" button on this site about 30 times or listening to the managers talk about the firewall (we had a network crash this morning, surprise). So as I was surfing through, I noticed a trend in the other blogs; the word "bored". Everyone is bored. In our high-intensity information-avalanche society, there are hundreds of thousands of bored people writing blog entries about how bored they are. I'm no expert, but I'll guess reading the bored blogs of your bored friends isn't helping your situation. In conclusion, I'm not bored. Life, as it goes on around me, is bloody hysterical. If you can't see the humour in supermarkets, mega-plexes, and traffic... well, I pity you. I burst out laughing all by myself all the time, because life is just that rediculous. Or because I am a grade-A whacko. Either way, at least I'm getting a laugh out of it.

Quote of the day: "A closed mouth gathers no feet."

Warning: potentially offensive material to follow.

I was curious this morning. I wondered if the Catholic Church has a website. Surprise, of course they do (it features a daily comic: Umbert the Unborn). There was a story about the Pope's address to the crowd on Easter Sunday. Apparantly, he appeared at his study window, overlooking St Peter's Square (is that what it's called?), where thousands of people had gathered. He tried repeatedly to address the crowd, but couldn't form words. He then proceeded to wave his right hand in his Pope-ly way, blessing the onlookers. It kind of made me think: for an organization that seems to want to stuff science at its every turn, the Pope has got to be one of the marvels of modern medicine. How and where do they draw the line? Organ transplant is ok, stem cell research isn't? Abortion isn't ok, but killing "heretics" is? For an organization that claims to so vehemently uphold life, how do they rationalize the Crusades? And when does technology turn from a tool to spread their beliefs (microphones, electric lighting, the internet) to something evil?

I have a really hard time dealing with religion in general, but I've come to grips with the fact that it's an undisputable force in society and peoples' lives. And, if your religion helps to guide you to be a better and happier person, more power to you. It's your choice. Basically the thing that really gets under my skin is mission work. The Mormons and the Catholics really seem to have cornered the market here. I've always been slightly repulsed by the idea, but that really came to a head when I was working in Bolivia. One might say that my time (working to teach kids trades, such as carpentry and metalworking) was my own type of mission work, but I never told them what to believe or think. Anyway, while I was there, I crossed paths with very few other english-speaking people, but the bulk of those I did meet were mostly missionaries. I just found it absolutely revolting that while there were people living in absolute squalor, there was this brand-new, gleaming church with a twelve-foot metal gate around it. I wonder if it was to keep the heathen out or the converted in. It seems to me that people are not being converted to these religions because the explaination they offer is more satisfactory than their current belief system, but because under their current belief system they can't eat, and perhaps if they accept the Bible or the Book of Mormon or the Hare Krishna Daily... maybe they'll be fed and clothed. I picture a missionary holding a cookie and backing up towards a church with a crowd of hungry children crawling after him... "come on, children, accept Jesus as your lord and I'll give you lunch..."

It's all one big business.

When I was flying back from Bolivia, I had encounters on two of the flights that made me sick. One was this large group wearing matching polo shirts with emblazoned with crosses and a slogan something like "Spread the Stars." These people, for one, filled the entire cargo hold with their baggage, preventing me and the three other people I was travelling with from getting our stuff once we got to Miami. Anyway, in the outside pocket of my carry-on, I had a few caucho sets, which is basically a leather cup with 5 dice. It's a Bolivian drinking game, and a set costs about $3. During the hustle and bustle and the long flight (which included a very random stopoff in Panama City), I lost one of the cups. I was looking around for it, and couldn't see it anywhere. Oh well, I thought, too bad. So we deboarded, got on our connecting flight about an hour later. Landing in Miami, one of these silver polo shirt people holds up the Caucho cup I had lost. I guess we had taken the same plane, and they hadn't cleaned it in between flights. "Thanks," I said, "wow, that was lucky." And with a knowing wink that I will never forget, the woman said "it's a God thing." A "God thing"?? I don't know where you were, but while I was in Bolivia I saw poverty, substance abuse, child abuse, and the injustice of the world. If God is looking down on the world and the only thing he can think of to do is make it so I find my stupid $3 game, God needs a hobby.

The other encounter I had was, I believe, on the flight from Cochabamba to La Paz on the way home. I was sitting next to this blonde cheerleader type with a big 'Bama sweatshirt on. We got to talking, and she showed me pictures of where she'd spent her summer. She'd been in a remote indigenous village in the Andes, where she had actually been raised. Her parents had been living there for years, and she spoke the language, which is spoken only by her family and the tribespeople. Cool, I thought, I didn't expect that from Southern Barbie. She then proceeded to tell me about how to get to this remote village you have to drive so many hours, then walk a few hours through a swamp... pretty treacherous stuff. When I asked what her family was doing living with this group, she explained that they had no written language, so they were figuring out a way to transcribe the spoken tongue, and teaching the people to read... the Bible. How is it that a tribe of people can live out in the middle of nowhere (and this is REAL nowhere, where none of them have seen civilization as we know it), and the only people who find them are bloody Christian missionaries? I have no problem with Christians (my mom's one) or religious people in general, but I have a steaming, smoking problem with people trying to inflict their beliefs on other people, especially when they do it by unfair means.

Sorry, I'm not feeling very funny today.

Two out of three days this weekend on the bike! wee!

Saturday was my first non-trainer day on the road bike since last year. I realise I should have been out much earlier, but alas, I am weak, and non-impervious to cold and wet. Anyway, we did the west island loop. It was fun and then very, very painful. But it was good to be out, and all the pain of pulling and the confusion of riding with a somewhat disjointed group was worth it for those fleeting minutes where the pack is perfect and everyone is in synch, and all you hear is wind and wheels on pavement. It's a certain special poetry that you only get on the road.

*boring training section*

(Warning: as the season gets going and I spend more and more time on the bike, this will begin to make a regular appearance in my blog. I will do my best to inform you when it starts and ends.)

I don't know what I was expecting, but I definately have a lot of work to do to get in race shape. The longest trainer sessions I did this winter were two hours, but usually about 1:30-1:45. It's just entirely too boring to do more than that, plus spin bike saddles are brutal. Anyway, due to the way the group was shaking out, I ended up pulling for much longer than I should have, just because I was feeling good. So I used most of my juice in the first 40k... I was going with my heart rate at 170+ for most of the ride. No wonder I hit the wall. I'm kind of feeling like I trained really ineffectively all winter and now I may as well (and I quote) "have stayed in bed all winter." But last spring I felt really good coming out of the off-season, and then I completely burned out in late July. So, I just hope I can get the base going soon. I want to come out swinging as soon as the snow on the trails melts. It's raining today and the gym is closed, so I guess I'm relegated to the trainer. I just hope Drop In is on.

*end boring training section*

Last night, Roomie and I had a people-who-don't-have-other-people Easter dinner. We whipped up a decently impressive minted couscous with roasted veggies. Dinner was being eaten, and dessert was in the oven... apple crumble. Thinking the apples were sufficiently cooked but that the crumble part maybe should go a little longer, we brilliantly decided to broil the dish (about an inch and a half from the element, to boot), and sat down to talk about what irresponsible parents we all would be. My incoherant yelling "smoke, smoke, smoke!" was answered with "no, I don't think I'll smoke while I'm pregnant...." The darn apple thing caught fire (I'm talking flames, not just smouldering), set off the smoke alarm, scared the living crap out of the cat, and made the apartment stink like... well, burnt apple crumble. Anyway, it was remarkably salvagable, and the house is still standing. A definate testement to our reponsible-ness.

I was going to go ask someone a very important question, but the radio is playing Pour Some Sugar On Me. They can't really expect me to get up with such a brilliant piece of drum-synth hairband artistry piping through my ears, can they?

Last Thursday, I was in the kitchen making my morning coffee. Someone came in and asked me how I was doing, to which I responded "it's pseudo-Friday!" with a large, joyous arm motion. I whacked my knuckle on the cabinet and busted it open. It is refusing to heal and seems to be prone to lemon juice and other stingy things. This, setting the apple crumble on fire, and slipping and crashing while trying to ride my bike on the ice yesterday, are three stupid things I did last week. What wonderous stupidity will I embark upon this week? Every week holds so many options! I could get a tatoo of the Leaning Tower of Pisa... on my forehead! I could join a sorority! I could drop everything to pursure a career in aquatic acupuncture (otherwise known as pirahna pinning)! I could join the Raelians (OK, if you don't know who these whackjobs are, you HAVE to check out www.rael.org)! I could subsist on nothing but pork rinds and jolt cola! I could open a restaurant that serves nothing but pork rinds and jolt cola, and charge $120 a plate! The possibilities are endless.

Things are good. The world looks better on two wheels.

** PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT**

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, MENTION THE WEATHER TO ME. GOOD OR BAD, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT UNTIL SPRING HAS OFFICIALLY SPRUNG. ANY TALK OF WEATHER OF ANY KIND WILL UNDOUBTEDLY RESULT IN CRAPPY WEATHER WHICH, RIGHT NOW, MAY RESULT ON ME GOING ON A KILLING SPREE.

CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED.

** WE NOW RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDUALED RAMBLING.**

Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster ride. I felt absolutely drained at the end of the day. What happened, you ask? Did you lose/gain a bunch of money on the stock market? Recieve a letter from a long lost romance? Job interviews? Family tragedy?

Hardly, says I. I was on ebay.

Long story short, I learned a valuable lesson: if you're on ebay and a guy says he'll sell you a "liquidation" 2005 bike (that was released to the market 2 months ago), and offers to ship it included in the cost, and has no actual pictures of the bikes, and sends you a western union address to send money to that when mapquested is on the train tracks in Queens, and is also selling eight pages of high-end electronics as well as hundreds of high end 2005 bikes, and he's posted all this under "gardening"....

yeah, it's probaby a scam.

It is happy bunny weekend here in Quebec (probably everywhere else, as well). To celebrate, I will bunny hop. My bike. Over puddles and small dogs. Perhaps I will accidentally not clear the small dogs. "Punting dogs," we call them.

Oh, for reference sake: 10% of all single men have never changed their sheets. You know who you are.

Me stoopid today.  Brain no worky.

Go, brain, go!

Nothin'.

It amazes me to no end, really, my laziness. When I'm in a situation where it's acceptable to drift below the radar and write in my blog, look at bike porn, apply for jobs, and post/reply to endless threads on mtbr.com (I hijacked my first thread today! Turned a discussion about the health benefits of dark chocolate into a discussion as to weather or not dogs are allergic to chocolate). I do have work to do, but because it isn't pressing and sure as heck isn't interesting, I'd rather surf. I'm really rather unimpressed with myself right now, to be honest.

What is really starting to bother me about this job is MONEY. And I don't mean what I get paid, I mean the fact that every decision is driven by the very bottom dollar. I know that industry is driven by money. I'm not stupid. But it's like we've completely lost sight of the............

WAIT! DON'T GO!

I just read back what I just wrote and realised that as I was clicking through other people's blogs, it's the ones that read something like that that I read for about 3 seconds and then skip. (hello? anyone still there? rats.) Therefore, I will write something to amuse at least myself and hopefully anyone who might stumble upon this unfortunate pile of chicken scratch (can you chicken scratch with a keyboard?).

Recently, at lunch, in four installments, a few of us watched the Incredibles. All in all, a really amusing movie. I was a little disappointed that we were watching a burned DVD and therefore didn't get to see the Jack-Jack Attack extra, but what are you gonna do... anyway, it got me thinking about superpowers... I fully need a superpower.

the ability to fly: kind of passe, seems like it's included in most superhero base packages. Plus, I've spent enough winters in Montreal to know that going 160km/h through -40C air is not likely to be much fun. However, work commute shortened, save lots of money on gas.

Invisibility: excellent for eavesdropping and playing pranks, but I think I'd prefer the ability to project an image of myself into my office chair while I go ride my bike.

Superhuman Strength: really hard to find a gym, and guys like it when they can open the pickle jar for you. However, might be kinda fun to move people's cars/houses when they're not looking.

DNA crossed with some sort of animal: very cool if the animal is sexy, like a cheetah or a panther... especially cool if the animal is a shark (swimming and biting!). Decidedly uncool if the animal is a sloth (ok, supervillan, now I will.... zzzz), potbellied pig, or maggot (I won't do anything to you now, but when you die, I'll slowly eat your carcass)

magnetic powers: decidedly more cool than I first thought... ability to pants people from a distance by stealing belts, can save bus falling off blown-out bridge by making it (get this) FLY to safety, can disarm pretty much anyone.

skeleton made of organic metal: honestly, I like this one. Look normal, but someone punches you in the kidney and they break their hand. Then you get to grow giant claws and go to town. Disadvantage: metal detectors, fighting aforementioned magnetic powers man (if he is on the side of evil).

Controlling weather: meh.

X-ray vision: fun for about 15 minutes until you realise ugly people are naked under their clothes too.

immortality: kinda makes the risk a little bit boring, I guess

ability to levitate objects: fun party trick, but David Copperfield does it, so some of the superpower sheen is dulled.

Inspector Gadget-type deal: excellent theme song, but you can pretty much get the same effect with a multitool. A badass mamma-jamma multitool.

shoot fire out of eyes: hell yes! I dare you to disagree with me in a meeting! Way better than the classic mom "you're in trouble" look (just imagine Junior trying to explain where the cookies went amidst a firestorm!).

That said, if I get to go to the Superpower Warehouse in the near future, I'm totally going to see if I can get a two-for-one deal on the organic metal skeleton and fire-eyeballs. I bet they'll throw in flight for free.

I should be writing a detailed recap of the Jocks vs. Nerds party we had on Saturday night. It was really the highlight of the weekend, in theory. But all I can think about is my ride on Saturday afternoon and when I'm going to be able to squeeze the next one in. The biggest stress in my life right now is the abundance of sunlight and the fact that I'm trapped in this jail cell of a cubicle during the best of it. I need to have a serious conversation with my boss about flex time for the summer, because I am honestly going to go insane if this keeps up. And it will. Inevitable insanity I guess.

Highlights of my ride: the expressions on peoples faces when I went plowing past them in spandex, the wonderful sensation of actually moving FORWARD when applying force to pedals (instead of creating that yucky burning smell that comes from the trainers), happy nods to other outdoor people, the quality thought-time you can only get when riding a bike... BEING ON A BIKE!

HIghlights of aforementioned nerds vs. jocks party: Cindy (dressed in Sharks jersey) giving Nick (dressed as disheveled nerd) a wedgie, Marcel (who for some god-only-knows-why reason owns elastic-waisted pants) and Liz (the cutest nerd ever), Bill's 2am plan to take over Bombardier, some mean pad thai, the smallest and rockinest ever party guest (I wish my parents had introduced me to beer at 10 months), Steve in full-on Dilbert head, Eric (because, hey, let's face it, it isn't a party without Eric), people trying to pronounce Hernan's surname, my Hoberton Sphere (you know you're jealous).

OK, that was fun to rehash, but I just don't have it in me to write about anything other than riding today.

I'm supposed to go camping Friday-Saturday, but then the idea of an epic its-spring-cuz-the-calendar-says-so ride was suggested to me... hm. Wonder which I'm going to do! Bloody hell. Leave it to me to bail on my friends at the last minute for one little ride. Oh, who am I kidding.

This has been an excessively dull post. But I can't think straight.

All I wanna do right now is ride.

I leave you today with one very short story.  It amuses me to no end.

You remember Smashy McBangBang? (see "secnes from a divot", February 22) Well, I was in the weightroom yesterday, surrounded by the usual chorus of "woo!" (I watched him do exactly a squat and a half (down, up, down.... not getting back up)), and I overheard a coversation. Long story short, I found out his name. And you know how usually you don't want to know people's names like that because your nickname is better? Not so.

Smashy McBangBang's real name... is Leon. LEON! Oh, man, Leon. Can you believe that? Ha!

"What should we name our proud son, my beautiful wife? What is a name worthy of a warrior, of the great man he shall become, the fruit of our loins, the child to carry on the family name? What name could be worthy of such pripitiousness?"

"The only name, dear husband, that could possibly bear the weight of such a great man, is Leon."

"Leon! He shall be known Leon from now until eternity. Praise God! We have a Leon."

LEON!

Oh, man, that's rich.

(you'll all know why if I become injured next week by someone "accidentally" dropping weights on my head)

hey!

you!

yeah, you!

winter!

I've had enough of you, you smelly bastard!

Go away, and don't come back!

You feel bad? Well, you should.

For lack of other inspiration, I am going to make a list of pros and cons about growing a third arm.

PROS

don't have to stop conducting orchestra to pick nose, can drink coffee while riding bike, can talk on cell phone and drive standard, don't have to get someone to hold ribbon while tying bow on gift, obvious advantage in boxing match, can cover more scratchin' ground with a bad case of poison ivy, can put on winter jacket without asking someone "can you hold this" about gloves, one more vein to shoot crack, can slap someone while strangling them, able to achieve the often-rumoured never-seen "triple fist" at parties, can carry groceries and open door, ready-made halloween costume, joyfully confusing to cops when trying to use handcuffs, five extra fingers in case of nasty power tool incident, juggling suddenly easier, able to mingle at cocktail party while holding glass and eating little snacks off a napkin without looking like a fool, guaranteed backup career in freak show, extra middle finger for pesky paparazzi.

CONS

more time in gym, freaks out old people on bus, constantly running from the 'feds to avoid "testing", buying shirts that fit virtually impossible, difficult to decide which side to put it on, need to have pants custom-made with extra pocket so third hand doesn't feel left out when it's cold (if this isn't followed, extra hand will have to be stuck in pants, which is just creepy), difficult to hide on a first date (however the advantages might outweigh the negatives on that one), have to buy two sets of gloves and throw the fourth one out, difficult to start career as supermodel.

Verdict: third arm definately the way to go.