This is how Maggi is stealth. She hides half way behind the cupboard and apparently presto! she’s invisible. She is desperately hoping that I will drop one or all of the clams that I am washing for tonight’s spicy clam feast.

Check out her legs. She sits like a toddler- limbs splayed in awkward but adorable angles.

My entire life, or at least the parts that I remember, I have had a recurring dream but I had almost forgotten about it since it hasn’t popped up in a couple of years. I had it again last night.

The dream is black and white and I am in a village. It’s grey and almost foggy and very quiet and all of our clothes are as grey as the air. I, along with the villagers, am carrying boxes of supplies down to the dock. Everyone has their head down and walks slowly and it looks like a depressing place to be though I don’t feel depressed. Once all of the boxes are at the dock, the villagers load them on to my raft and then they push us off. The raft contains me, the boxes of supplies for the journey, and a small grey kitten. As the raft floats further from shore and I am swallowed up by the fog I wave to the people standing on the dock. They all wave back, their hands moving slowly and no one speaks. I float on the sea for days, just me and the grey kitten, and I can’t see more than a few feet around the raft as the fog is still heavy. Eventually, the side of a great ship appears in front of me out of the mist. I am down on the raft looking up and I am tiny beside it. Suddenly a huge figure appears on the edge of the ship and looks down at me. He is dressed like a pirate complete with a large floppy hat and wooden leg. I have to crane my neck sharply and look straight up into the sky to see him because the ship is so big, and I know for certain that this is my Uncle Pete. I am not scared or excited, I am simply there. I have arrived.

That’s it.

Before anyone asks, there is no one in my family named Pete. It’s a weird, forlorn, kind of depressing looking dream and yet it doesn’t make me sad. Actually, it doesn’t make me anything. Just like the arrival at the side of the boat, it’s just kind of there. It’s one of those strange constants like a gag reflex or double jointed thumbs. A part of me finds it’s consistency comforting because I’m like that. I can appreciate consistency, even when it doesn’t make sense.

The Israeli human rights groups are of the opinion that Israel may be guilty of war crimes. That statement and the fact that they are calling for an investigation of their countries own actions speaks volumes. Those people, the million or so civilians living in Gaza, literally have no where to go to escape this. They are like lambs being led to slaughter only they’re not being led anywhere. They’re dying in their own homes and on their own streets everyday. Over a thousand now.

That fact that one may feel disgust towards Hamas and wish to see their down fall doesn’t, in any way shape or form, take away from the horrors being perpetrated by Israel.

Gee. This is SHOCKING. The Olympics are in financial trouble. Wait- let’s rephrase that- The people of Vancouver, and of BC in general, are going to be forced to cough up $458 MILLION which makes it the cities largest single loss in history due to jackass-ness. The City is asking permission to request the enormous loan to complete the 2010 Olympic Athlete’s village after it’s finances turned to shit and council turned a blind eye and just continued to smile & nod. Vancouver Mayor is gonna beg and plead ask the Premier to call up the big boys for an emergency sit down so they can change the fucking Vancouver Charter to allow for the loan without having to go through the pesky steps of asking the taxpayers if they mind getting bent over a desk and royally FUCKED.

Do you live in BC? Is your ass sore yet? Don’t worry, I will be soon.

Writer Ariane Sherine was getting a wee bit peeved with all of the “Jesus loves you, and if you don’t love him back you’ll burn in the depths of hell” type signs that we are all inundated with on buses, bus stops, billboards and more. So she did what any good little atheist girl would do; she raised some money and put up some signs of her own. Hey- fair play gang. If one particular group can take their “message” to the people via our cities public spaces, shouldn’t others be afforded the same access?

So…. on hundreds of buses in Scotland, UK, Wales and Barcelona you will now see this advert;

There are many people out there who find this offensive and yet feel the religious signage already out there about Jesus is perfectly fine. That makes me wonder, are they worried that people will see it as an option?

I’m not a religious person. I have always thought myself agnostic though that label really doesn’t seem to fit as snug as I’d like. Nor does the term atheist. I have decided that I am my own category and that category is ambivalent because it fits perfectly. I don’t believe in god, yet I firmly believe that there is a place for faith in our world and what you have faith in is up to you. I have my hippy mother’s “check ‘em all out and find one that fits” attitude to thank for this freedom. She was raised a Jehovah witness (much to her disdain) and vowed to never push us kids into anything that we hadn’t checked out first.

I love these bus ads for what they add to the human conversation. Personally, I think they’re fucking brilliant.

Perhaps Mugabe isn’t interested in being in the global media spotlight, or perhaps he’s just a little crazy shy. Whatever it is, he is certainly doing his best to keep the media at bay. Most western groups are already banned, but the few allowed in to cover the countries woes (including Reuters and Associated Press) may not be there much longer unless they’re willing to pony up some big bucks. Mugabe has imposed some rather ridiculous fees on all foreign media groups should they wish to report from his back yard and they are as follows;

$4000.00 Annual fee

$10,000.00 Application fee

$20,000.00 Accreditation fee

2,000.00 Administration fee

Fee to be a journalist in Zimbabwe;

$36,000.00

Being “Lord and Master” with little interest in accountability or witness;

Priceless.

This warms my frosty little heart. And with a vote of 114 to 1 no less!

I’m dying to see something wipe that smug smile off of his smarmy face.