The Penalty Box

This year I went minimalist.  Why? Because I’m lazy.  Finding out what other people come up with is pretty cool though.  The following are some of the costumes that showed up at work:

• Flames fan in Vancouver (ketchup stains as blood with a “Kick me” sign taped to the back)
• Facebook (a blue book with a hole in it, put over the face)
• Squeegee kid
• Paperbag princess
• Duck beauty pageant winner
• Blackberry

Our office manager threatened bad makeup and fairy costumes on anyone that didn’t dress up.  A few people called her bluff, and, well…nothing happened.  Methinks some more bluff calling is in order.  I didn’t call her bluff, but I did find a way around it without actually having to wear an itchy wig or an uncomfortable mask.  Behold my costume:

I was called a brat.  I claimed lateral thinking.  I did stop short of “thinking outside the box” and “changing the paradigm” though.  I probably would’ve gotten hit if I said that.

Two things cross my mind as we stroll into November.  One: How the crap is it November already? Two: Hooray, BSG movie coming soon!

I went to John’s birthday party, one of my co-workers, yesterday.  It was interesting to see a few of them outside of the office.  He’s a big scotch guy and I got to try some Glenlivet and Jameson.  The Glenlivet didn’t have as much flavour as I’d like, but the Jameson was pretty good.  I like it better than Crown.

John’s got a pretty nice pad downtown, within spitting distance of GM Place.  I was amused by the fake fireplace that produces fake fire.  The architecture was done fairly well; despite it being a one bedroom place, the design makes it feel a little bigger than it actually is.  Heck, he’s got enough space for one of those L-shaped couches (waaaaant…but one like Curtis’, which you can lean back on like a La-Z-Boy).

Watching your co-workers get drunk off of vodka and scotch can be a rather entertaining affair.  John was getting kinda pink by around 11pm.  Inevitably, a few of us ended up talking about work, which kinda sucks looking back on it because I like to leave work at work if possible in a social environment.  Ah well, it was a good time conversing with people with some good scotch.  I find interacting with people in different environments than the norm really brings out other things you wouldn’t find out otherwise.

Alas, I would be amiss if I didn’t pimp John’s pet project: PlateRage.  I actually find it pretty cool, and The Province recently did an article on it.  It’s a pretty novel idea.  People love to hop on the user generated content bandwagon these days.  I don’t drive much, but I imagine those that are unfortunate to drive to work every day could make very good use of this site.

…this is one right here.  A solid two minutes of action and an insane amount of skill produces a goal.  A breakaway isn’t the only thing that can bring you out of your seat.  A solid shift and some pretty pretty passing can as well.  It was even better live in the arena.

Also, Jim Hughson (the play by play announcer) has no equal in today’s media.  Period.

The draft for the family hockey pool was yesterday, and I’m still unsure of my team.  I don’t know whether or not taking Paul Stastny with my second pick ahead of proven guys like Olli Jokinen will pay off.  It currently is, as Stastny has 8 points through 3 games so far, but we all know how fast things can go in the crapper (see: Chris Higgins last year).  It’s strange how despite the fact that I have $30 riding on the office hockey pool and the family pool having the top prize of bragging rights, I still feel I have more at stake in the family pool.  Maybe it’s because I get to trash talk my cousins and victory over your own blood tastes sweeter.  Hmm…that doesn’t sound very good, does it? It’s a family bonding thing, I swear.

Then again, one never really knows how these pools can turn out.  Last year the halfway point leader for the family pool was the cousin that picked her players based on how hot she thought they were.  Ultimately she lost because she forgot to submit a drop list to get rid of her injured players at Christmas, but the fact remains that an entirely unscientific approach was working.  The cousin that won last year decided to pick mostly old guys, to which I tried convincing him to take Draper as his last pick, because hey, Draper’s old.  No dice.  Oh well, as long as he doesn’t win again this year, it’ll all be good.  I think I was 2 points shy last year of winning.

Before the whole draft went down, a few of the kids were running around the house.  These would be children of some of the participants in the pool.  It always amazes me at how much entertainment a four year old can get from running circles around the hallways and rooms of a house.  For a good twenty minutes all I heard was “EEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeee…*fades out*…eeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…*fades out*…eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” as four rugrats between the ages of 3 and 7 chased each other in what seemed to be a chaotic version of Tag.  Eventually it devolved into an inflated hammer swinging match, with a dog as the victim of the hammer abuse.  Actually, I really shouldn’t say “dog” because it wasn’t a real dog; it was white, furry and smaller than a cat, a breed I like to call “punt dog.”  So really, I didn’t feel all that sorry for the creature.  Fortunately, the kids eventually got distracted by Dora the Explorer in the other room.
Hope everyone’s Thanksgiving went well and you’re all suitably stuffed to the gills.  I was fortunate (or unfortunate, depending your point of view) to re-learn that good stuffing can be as addictive as heroin.