“She is the perfect woman. Stunningly attractive. Walks gracefully. Dresses tastefully. Has a nice laugh. And an even nicer physique. Can make intelligent conversation. Doesn’t throw tantrums. Maybe she can even skydive. WHO IS SHE? She is your DREAM WIFE.”

After my post from two weeks ago I was thinking about other internet oddities I had encountered in my college days and I suddenly remembered this site, Coincidence Design. This is basically one of the creepiest websites I have ever seen, and the worst part is that I can’t tell if it is real or not. Basically the site is designed for incredibly rich, lonely men who are hoping to seduce a woman that they don’t even know, but have been watching from afar. They do all kinds of private investigation and whatnot before arranging a “coincidence” (ie. the two of you are “stuck” in an elevator) in which you will meet the lady of your dreams and she will fall madly in love with you and your money.

I think it is actually really similar to the plotline of “Hitch” with Will Smith, but for reals. The best part is actually the FAQ:

Q. How do I pay you? Can I pay in installments?
A. We accept cash, checks, and wire transfers. Installments are not acceptable, as a need to rely on these would imply that you are not wealthy enough to be a suitable suitor for the lady of your dreams. Please note that an initial retainer of $10,000 is required. The balance is payable upon completion of the mission.

So this is basically a very simple, very straightforward scam, or it is an extremely, unneccesarily complex yet effective way to meet a woman. Either way it really makes you wonder how many people actually contact them, let alone give them ten grand.

I don’t really have all that much more to say about this, I just wanted to bring it to your attention. If anyone notices anything on the site that makes them think it is definitely real or fake, I’d love to know. I can’t figure it out.

I know how some people like re-mixing my comics, so here’s a nice blank I dun up good:

Around 6-8 months ago I was hanging out with Beaton and Pagz, and they drew all silly. They wrote out like a script, and then they drew in some pictures, and then later they transposed the words onto the pictures. Also they were drawing all realistic-like. So this is my attempt at emulating them!

First, I wrote out a script. Then I did my best to draw out three panels (on a full 8.5×11 sheet, no less!), and I even tried drawing My Spazzy Wife in more-realistic glory. Then I lost my script, then 3 weeks later I inked it, then I lost my sketchbook for 6 months! HOORAY! So I actually have no friggin idea what is going on in there.

Hi diddley ho, blitzerinoes!

Weasel said he’d let me sub in and write an article to make up for all you slackers. Ooh, the power!

So here I am at home with a weekend all to myself to write my thesis. Naturally this means that I took a break from eating cookies and watching The Simpsons to read today’s Globe and Mail, which just happened to be delivered to my very door. No, this isn’t about Margaret Wente’s insightful take on Transgenderedism, but I assure you, she remains on top of her game.*

I hit the “Focus” section, and found myself reading an article about whether or not adolescence is obsolete. It seems last week this was Ms. Wente’s topic of choice. It seems she’s been reading (A dangerous passtime! I know!) this dude called Robert Epstein, who argues that in fact age is not a good measure of maturity, and we should treat all people equally once they hit puberty, making anyone above the age of 11ish pass a test to work, drive, drink, have abortions, or consent to sexual relations. Part of his argument is that there are apparently no fundamental differences between teenage and adult brains, that “teenagerhood” was invented during the industrial revolution because grownups were tired of kids taking their jobs so they decided to throw them in school, and basically that there are a bunch of old people who are pretty darn immature.

All this is very interesting (and strikes me as somewhat suspect, but then I don’t have a PhD in Phychology like Dr Epstein, so what do I know?) but what struck me as SUPERfun was that the G’n'M included a sample of Dr. Epstein’s “How adult are you?” test, that apparently tests one’s maturity in the areas of problem solving, love, handling responsibility, managing high-risk behaviours, and citizenship.

Now, let’s leave aside for a moment the question of whether or not a truly “mature” person would think one could answer complex questions about love/democracy/basic math with a simple “yes” or “no.”

I decided to check out the full version of the “Epstein-Dumas Test of Adultness” (seriously), available online at:

The first question that struck me was #3: “Some people say that true love lasts forever. Is this true?”

“Why, yes!” thought I, “Some people DO say that!” And I clicked the “yes” button. And on I went, until #72: “Some people say that we all have a “true love.” Do you agree?” Again, I was shocked at how easy the question was.

Then, THEN the test had the audacity to tell me that I have immature ideas about love! And all because of poorly worded questions! I thought Mature people were supposed to have good communication skills and a superior grasp of grammar, Dr. E! Naturally, I decided that this was just not right, so I wrote a little note to my favourite Dr., suggesting that he correct his vague pronouns, and informing him that I have some friends with Masters degrees who work at Blockbuster who would disagree with his statement that getting “more education” is going to get you a better job.

While I was waiting for a response, I let Dr. Epstein’s fine site tell me where I fall on the hetero/homosexuality spectrum, and inform me that all my relationships are doomed because I don’t know how to invest money and I don’t deal well with conflict. After this ordeal, I opted not to take the mental health test, for my own sanity.

Well, my friends, it seems Dr. Epstein is writing his thesis as well, because he responded to my email within mere hours! His response:

“Hi RandomGirl - I agree with your first 2 corrections, and I’ll make appropriate changes. Thanks very much for taking the time to write. Cordially, /re”

I’m not even very annoyed that he chose to ignore my deeper probing into the (potentially flawed) assumptions he makes with this test! He thinks my corrections are valid, AND he MUST be smart because he uses words like “Cordially.”

Not only that, his website taught me how to embed links to his site in my very own web page. Or Weasel’s very own web page. Check this out:

Or

Or even

Until next time. And watch out for overachieving teenagers. They’re going to screw us all over.

*Can you feel the irony dripping from this statement?

Wow, look at the new layout. Sort of looks like a leprechaun or something. No problems with that here. I love leprechauns. I’m always trying to steal their lucky charms.

I saw some weird shit today. I started with, what I would consider a very gonzo breakfast. Bacon, eggs (sunnyside up, runny), toast, hashbrowns, pancakes, coffee, orange juice, water and a coffee flavored milkshake. This was necessary since we had been up till five last night playing Excite Truck. Well worth it. We rocked more than a few courses. But breakfast is the most important meal of the day, don’t you know? Well, I know it.

We had initially wanted to go to this restaurant that we had missed breakfast at the previous week. Naturally, this week they changed their hours and no longer serve breakfast. Seems kind of drastic, to completely cut a meal out of the day. For a restaurant, anyway. I’m lucky if I get two squares.

Anyway, so we ended up going to the same place we went to last week. It’s a good, solid meal, but the restaurant is right across from the hospital and the old folk’s home, so you can never feel totally comfortable in there. It feels like eating in the waiting room at a doctor’s office.

A decision was made, since we never did get to eat at the first place, that we would return for supper. Pulling into Stellarton (the town right next to New Glasgow, literally 30 seconds away), you just need to veer to the left and you’re there.

The parking lot of the restaurant borders on a used car dealership. Seems like a pretty sly ploy to me; it always looks like the place has a lot of customers, but really they’re just cars waiting to be sold. Since they’re removing breakfast, however, maybe that strategy backfired.

As we entered, we saw some patrons who were leaving the restaurant gawking, slightly slack-jawed. I followed their line of sight and saw something truly remarkable.

A truck was parked in front of the entrance, which had a velvety looking pillow resting on the dashboard. Sleeping on that pillow was a cat, totally docile, dreaming comfortably. Most confusing was the fact that the cat was wearing little John Lennon-ish sunglasses. I’m this sounds like the deranged rantings of a decaying mind, but I swear this cat was wearing sunglasses. I saw the cat yawn, and was very impressed that the glasses were attached to his head somehow. Unbelievably, he seemed totally comfortable with this arrangement.

*Not the actual cat. Merely the result of google searching “cat with sunglasses.”

I would have given anything to have had a camera at that moment. Right now, I sound like an idiot, I’m sure. But if I had photographic evidence of this, I might come across a little better. Or, at the very least, female readers and contributors to this site could share a collective “awwwwwwww!” (with the sound getting higher towards the end, signifying a cute “awww” as opposed to other varieties).

This town is weird for animals. There are a ton of cats in my neighborhood. I’m friendly with some of them. One day, I was in the Sobey’s parking lot, and I saw a car pull up and a dog jumped out. The owner said, “we’ll be back in 10 minutes, boy!” and walked into Sobey’s. The dog promptly ran off. I saw him later behind the building, perhaps stereotypically burying a bone.

Just the other day, in fact, I was walking downtown, and saw a dog run by, trailing his leash behind him. I figured I’d try to be helpful, so I went to the dog, let him smell me, gave him a few pats, then took the leash and tried to retrace his steps. The owner was around the corner on another block. He seemed very grateful, and told me “he just jumped out the car window.” Fair enough, I suppose, but people seem to let their pets run wild to a certain extent in these parts.

Next week, I probably won’t be posting a blitz. I’ll be attending the wedding of my good friends Morgan and Joel. It promises to be a very surreal event, with no shortage of weepy-eyed reunions of old friends and bleary-eyed drunken ramblings as the bitter, remaining single people of the event band together and find equally desperate members of the opposite sex. Luckily, I’ve got a bridesmaid to hang off of.

Let me be the first to tell Morgan and Joel, I hope your married life is far more entertaining than any sitcom. No laugh track here, no sir! Just life! Life itself: the smells and tastes and sounds. Just dig in!

Wow, I am tired. I kind of had a Tick moment there. Well, he has some words of advice for the happy couple on children as well.

“Babies are fleshy, pink footballs of hope that we throw into the future! But you better put a good spiral on that baby!”

It’s about time to introduce everybody to my roommate! That’s right, My Spazzy Wife isn’t the only thorn in my side. Ever since Maristar and I moved into an expensive house, we decided we would nab us a roommate to help defer some costs.

Also, with my flying career keeping me away from home for months on end, it’s nice she has some company.

I really like My Hippy Roommate because she’s perfect fodder for all my devil’s advocate debating. She’s a class-act; she only drinks free-trade coffee, she only buys organic foods, she doesn’t eat meat, she doesn’t drink, she beleives in Buddhism, and she supports the Free Tibet movement. And that’s just off the top of my head. BEHOLD:

So there I was sitting around at home not doing much… You know, the usual…

And I saw this “Letter to the Editor” in my local newspaper. It had to do with the Free Tibet movement and was therefore fairly controversial, so I wrote a response.

“Grow up and use straight facts next time.”

I was a little bitchy.

You might read the article and think to yourselves, “holy smokes, Weasel is the biggest hole in the universe,” but I’m just playing Devil’s Advocate. The local community papers are quick to publish any submission, it seems.

Maristar pointed out this news item to me: a Columbian reality TV show is starting up based on dirty sex. Yes, if you have the dirtiest sex you win.

And for the Sci-Fi and Good-Filmmaking fans, here’s a list of Movies you should See (But Probably Haven’t). There’s only 10, with paragraph-long synopsii, so check it out.

(Kitty image thanks to Kotaku)

Our website lacked a certain fundamental attribute until this point: Minimum and maximum widths. Yep, if your browser window was resized to be really really small, the whole thing would scale down and images would overlap and things would compress. To a point it was allright, but if it got too small things just fell apart.

Conversely, if you had a huge-ass resolution monitor, each of our articles could potentially be a single line long, and again images would begin to overlap.

I have now constrained the site to a minimum of 982 pixels wide (cower in fear, 800×600 users) and a maximum of 1200 pixels wide (a bit smaller than the standard LCD monitor these days). If this severely hampers anyone’s reading ability or pisses anyone off, let me know and I’ll consider revising the figures, but I’m going to guess that nobody will notice. :)

I also made a few minor graphical changes in anticipation of a BIG UPDATE COMING SOON! What is it?!