Classy...

So I've spent the past few days trying to find a picture online of what I drove (I drive my bike, not ride it) by on my way home from the work the other day.  You know it's bad when google images can't find what you are looking for.

SO.  Driving home on my bike the other day I passed an obese man in a motorized wheelchair, with an oxygen tank, wearing a wife beater, SMOKING.  Really?  Oxygen and fire.  Really sensible folks.

This is what I'm dealing with here in the SSR.

On top of that, he was passing cars.  I don't know how he souped up his engine to be a speed demon but I witnessed it with my own eyes.

Sadly my camera was at the very bottom of my bag or you would be able to witness it too!

Sweet Home Ala-Vanier...

So, I'm learning to play the guitar.  At 36.  Kind of late in the game to get started, but, why the hell not. I have a few goal songs for the "hootenany" I'll be holding closer to the end of the year, but this being the SSR, I think I need to work on some "classics".  I figure if I can strum out something along the lines of Sweet Home Alabama, perhaps my neighbours will be less likely to call the cops?

Or maybe I can poll the cops I know to see what they want to hear.  Let's be honest, this is SSR. At any given moment there is a minimum of 4-6 police cars within a 500m radius.  Maybe they'll have some requests?

Why stop there.  Any requests from the dealers and working ladies nearby?  You aren't invited but you are more than welcome to listen in...

Who said recycling never hurt anyone?

I suppose a more local way to say this would have been "recycling never hurt no one". It has been in hibernation mode for a while, but yesterday the klutz inside me made a grand appearance. I tripped and quite hilariously fell three steps, landing with quite a crack on my ankle. Sprained ankles are no big deal to me; the poor ligaments holding my ankle in place have been stretched to the breaking point so many times I sometimes find it hard to believe I can walk without falling down. But that's not why this qualifies for posting on Dispatches, nope it is more likely the fact that as a direct result of this injury I have left the confines of my property not once but twice wearing, gasp, pink crocs. It's true. I guess I am a local now...