Yesterday on Twitter, I was told by Avitable that he had a hard time believing I lived without a microwave. Poppy believed me.

Well to be fair I think his disbelief was much more about me telling the truth, but let’s not focus on that, m’kay?

So here it is, proof I don’t own a microwave:

I blogged about it on April 27, 2007. I never replaced the microwave since that day. Part of the reason is that we really don’t need a microwave, and part of the reason is that LovelyWife wants a model that goes above the stove, and most of those models requires a vent to the outside, which my kitchen does not possess at this point. Anybody owning a house knows of the domino effect when it comes to renos, and in our house we somehow go from a vent to the outside to redoing the bathrooms and the basement. Don’t ask, it’s complicated.

Look at these:

This is where the microwave should be.

Well, this is where the old microwave was. Like I said, the new one should be above the stove.

Once the Corn Flakes are removed, you can see the power outlet.

So there you go, proof that I don’t own a microwave.

So what about you? Is there anything you don’t have that other people think that you’re somewhat crazy because you don’t? I’m paraphrasing Avitable, of course. I don’t think he thinks I’m crazy. Well not for not having a microwave anyways.

All good things must come to an end, I know. But it still makes me sad.

And so another chapter closes on Avitaween. You can see my pictures on Flickr. I’m sure that soon enough, we’ll create a picture pool of some sort.

Until next year…

Or: How I got hit in the head by John Popper’s harmonica and survived to blog about it.

Seriously, I got hit in the head by one of his harmonicas. He threw three in the crowd and the third one hit me. And no, I wasn’t quick enough to grab it – someone else beat me, nay scratched me to it.

[But first, cue harp flashback music]

The day started with some breakfast, followed by a visit to the gym and the pool. We then relaxed a bit, took showers and went to lunch at Seasons 52. I highly recommend it.

We then waited for SheilaCSR to get her butt to the hotel. We finally said hello as she was getting here and we were leaving for the Blues Travelers’ show at the House of Blues, where we walked around for a bit, had some food (too much food) and then stood around for 5 hours waiting in line, listening to Mike Dunn and the Kings of New England and then Blues Travelers. Oh, and did I mention I got hit in the head by an harmonica? Because I totally did.

We made our way back to the Hilton, where Avitable himself was waiting by the door to greet us (also, he was helping SheilaCSR staying up / walking). A few other bloggers were inside (Poppy, Dawg, Finn, Bellaventa, Kim205, Mr. Fab, Turnbaby and a few others I’m forgetting I’m sure.

Because I got hit in the head.

The end.

+++++

I wonder what I’ll do today…

About a plane ride to Orlando.

We fly from Ottawa to Montreal from 6:00 to 6:40. This is in lieu of a 2 hour drive, but it’s on one of those really really small Bombardier Dash-8 plane.

Clicking makes the image bigger, but sadly not the plane

Yes, those are freaking propellers. I don’t know if I’m more scared of not making it to Montréal, or simply to go deaf from the sound. I must remember to grab some earplugs for the ride. To paraphrase Alien: In a Dash-8. no one can hear you scream. I said: NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM.  Sigh. Just forget it.

We then fly from Montréal to Orlando from 8:15 t0 11:30.

With the luggage pick-up, the rental car pick-up I think we’ll make it to the Altamonte Hilton for 14:30.

And then, the real fun begins…

So, it’s now 19:40 yesterday night. I haven’t packed anything yet, and the hockey game is starting. Tough choice… You might see me naked in Orlando.

I’ll (We’ll if you watched HIMYM yesterday) be on an airplaine to Orlando. Well, to Montréal first and then to Orlando.

I.

Can’t.

Wait.

Sadly, I now have to go to work. Sigh.

In honor of Avitable’s Birthday, here’s a repost of my classic Avitable spoof.

Click to embiggify

Happy Birthday Adam! See you in a week!

*Edit: Did I mention I have the flu? Apparently a side effect of the flu is that I can’t read because Hilly Tweeted “Happy BossDay” and I read “Happy Birthday”. Of course, I knew Adam’s birthday was on January 26th. Stupid brain. Meh, let’s make this Adam’s honorary birthday okay?

Every year, my kids’ school has an event where all the kids from the school draw stuff on the sidewalks around the school.

CutieDaughter drew the leaning tower of Pisa, which seems to have been moved to Holland.

The artist and her drawing.

AudaciousSon drew the solar system, in an apparent once in a lifetime planetary alignment.

The artist with his work.

+++++

And that’s all you’re getting, because I’ve been trying to solve a certain person‘s template issues, and it’s 23:53 and I have to go to bed now.

Wow, look at that:

My first Zazzle sale. I’m 2.60$ closer to Avitaween 2009. W00t!

I just hope the buyer is not LovelyWife.

I’m Avitable. Mike is my doppelganger.

None of us is innocent.  Each of us has been at a party or a conference or naked in a hot tub and when the conversation quieted down, motioned for the group to huddle together, looked around carefully, and said, “Did you hear the joke about the Canadian who . . .”

Or maybe you were a part of that group, and you glanced around nervously to make sure that none of our Great White Northern neighbors were around before laughing uproariously at the latest jokes about maple syrup or saying “oot”.

Well, unlike the rest of you racist fucks, I don’t hide when I tell or hear Canadian jokes. I know I’m not racist, because some of my favorite things are Canadian!

• Maple syrup
• John Candy
• Michael J Fox
• Light bulbs
• Duct tape
• Superman
• IMAX
• LeSombre
• Trivial Pursuit
• Bacon
• Cable TV
• Air-conditioned cars
• Keanu Reeves
• Ryan Reynolds
• Basketball
• Color film
• Liquid hand soap dispensers
• Telephone
• Ginger Ale
• Tracer bullets
• Air hockey
• Zippers
• Avril Lavigne
• Sarah Chalke

See? Now you’ll know that the next time I tell that joke about Celine Dion, unlocked doors, no guns, and a Queen, it’s not racist, because some of my favorite things are Canadian.