Thanks! Very kind of you to say.

Ah, the old Coon Hill Rd. special. Grew up near a wooded country road that was full of trash like this. People apparently came from all around the township to dump their trash and furniture up and down this road, and the county never bothered to clean it up. My family was never down with that, but my dad used to catch possums in his livetraps and relocate them on this exact road. I guess he didn’t know how beneficial it was to have possums around. Coon Hill may have been lined with trash, but it was likely 100% tick free.

I had to do a school project once where we took disposal cameras and snapped photos of things that we found beautiful, and things we found ugly. I knocked out almost all of the ugly ones just on Coon Hill, but I did snap a few beautiful ones off the beaten path a bit. It was in the dead of winter and mostly snow and rotting vegetation, but beautiful enough at the right time of day. There was a duality down Coon Hill.

I swear I wasn’t a redneck, but it sure sounds like it.

Can confirm. I manage a produce department for a living and it blows my mind that we get 3-4 days in the wall cooler but 24 hours at home. Moisture control goes a long way.

Fuck 'em up!

I was at the Calgary Zoo last week and I watched a blonde bear being hunted relentlessly by two darker bears. The consensus was that they were playing and everyone was having a good laugh, but the longer it went on, the less the blonde bear appeared to be having fun. But the darker bears just kept going. I couldn’t help but wonder, what if the blonde bear was going to be eaten by the other bears, and he’s just trapped in this exhibit, doomed to run perpetual circles until he finally collapses and gets ripped apart by the others?

I don’t know where the fuck I was going with this one. I just wanted to rescue that blonde bear from his cruel friends. Maybe he’d make a good candidate for a housebear. I didn’t get a photo of him, but I did manage to snap this awkward pic of a meerkat.

What’s over her mouth there?

I always try to imagine the process of deciding, and it’s hard to take it seriously.

“Carnidal Donatello has done some great work for the church, and the nuns really like him.”

“Yes, sure, I agree with you there. However, I think that Mortimer has been much closer to God. I saw him the other day – Mortimer, that is, not God – and I swear he was radiating with light.”

“Mortimer truly does radiate with light, but that may have been due to his proximity to the CNPP back in '86, and might explain his extra appendages… You’ve certainly been quiet through these deliberations, Marco. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Me? Oh. Well… I kind of like Bill.”

Immigration Canada wanted proof of my wife and I’s relationship, so we dumped a packet of printed call logs on them as thick as a novel. Skype certainly served its purpose.

My daughter and I saw a video on YouTube a few years back where a kid with a nasally voice and a bad lisp shouted “PARATHOROLOPHUTH!”, and now every time we see one on TV or in one of her books, we have to say it exactly like that.

Like many others have said, the old, lost internet was really something special. Every website was crude and janky, poorly formatted for some specific resolution that you weren’t using, and both animated clipart and midis were exciting to collect. There were websites dedicated to them. My brother and I used to fill folders on our desktop with sparkling or flaming banners, signs that read “Under Construction” and more. Same with midis. I’ll never forget the first time I discovered Sublime’s Santaria in midi form. It may have been my first favorite song.

I wish I could properly articulate what that all felt like. It was a similar feeling to collecting Pokémon cards as a kid. Everything was just a neat spectacle on the mid-90s internet. Then over time, as everything modernized and monetized, it lost that weird magic and became what it is today. I can’t remember the last time I gave a shit about exploring a website. I no longer come across spooky animated images of a skeleton peering out of murky water and excitedly tuck it away for future viewing pleasure. The entire thing sucks now, but it probably sucked then, too.

"When asked how they managed to fend off the reptiles, crash survivor Amos Moses said, “I just knock 'em in da head wit a stump.”

Jamil is such a needlessly aggressive and whiny little cunt. Dude gives off the energy of a middle school football player flipping his shit over how the other team cheated and the refs are corrupt.

Alright, boys. Hear me out. You cut a hole on the inside of your pocket, put on your pants, then pull your penis through the hole so that it is emerging and/or hanging out of your pocket.

WOooAaHhh! 🫨

My hope is that the CPC* splits and/or reforms into a more moderate and respectable party, so that at least it won’t be fucking armageddon in the event that they win a future election. But if I know conservatives worldwide, they won’t learn shit.

(Edit: CPC, not UCP)

Yo, guy… Did you kill that CEO?

https://youtu.be/j0_vinmW2ik

I love the legend of Bigfoot, and I’ve spent enough time among the vast wilderness of the western and northwestern continent of North America to respect how such a concept can be entertained. These forests are unfathomably large, and navigating through them across BC, the Yukon and Alaska is akin to taking a canoe across the Pacific. It’s humbling. However, I wholly accept the criticisms of the legend as well, though it has never stopped my imagination from hoping there’s more to it, nor has it stifled my fascination with hearing first-hand accounts told by locals and indigenous peoples.

That said… have you checked in on the Bigfoot community lately? Half of those guys have gone fucking nuts and are now inventing entirely new superpowers to explain the mythos. Cloaking devices, interdimensional shifting, time travel, telepathy, and an undeniable link with UFOs and other cryptids. Now that old photos are so easy to replicate with AI, the waters have been even further muddied, and most of these groups just circulate the same obvious fakes. Old sepia photographs of mountaineers standing among groups of them, in miraculously high-definition. Photos that somehow circumvented the public for close to a century and have now appeared with exceptional clarity. Bigfoot fan groups have almost become a social club for schizophrenics. It’s wild.