At work we use postini to filter our e-mail. This includes a daily digest on any mail that has been filtered, so we can catch false positives. I rarely look at it, instead choosing to filter this message to a mailbox I never read, but I saw it the other day and it made me laugh. Check out the subject lines of these filtered e-mails:
It actually makes me want to see what is in the e-mail.
I received a letter in the mail today from CIBC indicating that my CIBC Aerogold Visa Card would be automatically upgraded to the new CIBC Aerogold Visa Infinite Card. This is very exciting. The change will happen automatically this summer at no additional cost to me.
What’s in it for me? On top of the benefits of the CIBC Aerogold Visa card I will now have automatic out-of-province travel medical insurance, trip interruption insurance, the flexibility to spend over my credit limit without having to pay an overlimit fee, and access to a members-only CIBC Visa Infinite website where I can access travel concierge services, enhanced dining and hotel perks, as well as special travel offers. As an added bonus to me, I will get 2500 bonus Aeroplan Miles the first time I use the new CIBC Aerogold Visa Infinite card.
It’s also worth noting that the CIBC Aerogold Infinite Visa card is much nicer looking than the CIBC Aerogold Visa. That’s what I’m most excited about.
In the wake of Mr. George Carlin’s recent passing we cannot help to be reminded of the adage “you do not know what you have until it is gone”. Carlin’s passing has given him more headlines than anytime after the supreme court ruling relating to his “seven words”. People are now taking the time to remember him with a great appreciation for his work.
Recently I have come up with the fantastic idea of pretending that I do not remember who anybody is. If I were to come across you–whoever you are–I may react with that awkward “hello” you manage to mutter while you try to place a name to the face. In short I will typically apologize and admit that I do not remember your name (”I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name”).
This idea has not been well received, despite its brilliance, and I cannot help but think it is simply unappreciated in its time. I suspect that when I die I will be remembered for this comical routine; only then will the humour of this routine be fully respected.
The Internet has some cool stuff on it.
The latest Trying Is Hard comic is very cool. I was a little confused when my RSS reader said I had to view it at the website, but it makes perfect sense when you see it and it especially appreciated if you read the comic regularly.
Nine Inch Nails have released rehearsal footage of 1,000,000 and Letting You. It is suggested that there may be one more video to share. This is getting me pumped for the concert in Toronto on August 5th.
“Why wasn’t I there to monitor that conversation?”
The background to this comment will be withheld as it is damning to the quoted; for the same reason, the identity of the quoted will be kept secret. But the conversation in question was one about the after effects of eating my chilli. More specifically, the conversation was about the cause of the after effects of eating my chilli.
It is my opinion that I make some excellent chilli. It is simple but flavourful and well suited for manipulation with both bun and fork. But there is no denying that my chilli makes you fart. And, unfortunately, the farts are frequent and malodorous. It was always my belief that this is just the way chilli is but I received the suggestion that this is not the case.
As it happens, my chilli may have a lot of beans. A quick recipe comparison revealed that a pot of my chilli could have as much as five times as many beans in it. My chilli is usually made with five cans of beans. In addition to these five cans of beans, two cans of diced tomatoes are used (for the sauce) and one green pepper is added. (Not to mention the beef, spices, and sometimes hot pepper(s) for flavour.) Because the tomatoes provide the base I do not count them as vegetables and suggest that my chilli has five cans of beans to one vegetable. (I admit, I have made my chilli without the solitary vegetable.)
The compared recipe calls for one can of beans and a whole lot of vegetables. I admit, I was stuck on the one can of beans and didn’t explore just how many vegetables that would be, but I imagined a chilli-pot sized heap of veggies. But really, these vegetables must just be taking up bean space. Could it really be that I use five times as many beans as others? I am hoping that this particular recipe is low on the bean count and that maybe I only use twice as many beans as the usual recipe. That I can be proud of. But five times as many seems excessive and I don’t think pride is an appropriate reaction.
I am not one who gives much thought to the homeless (see previous post about caring), but I find the statistics in this news story particularly disturbing: Homeless Toronto women face violence, poor access to health care: report.
After I got to work today I thought about what I had worn and affirmed that I was wearing the worst outfit that I can ever remember wearing. I didn’t think about what I would wear today at all–I just threw some stuff on. The results are less than ideal.
Punisher t-shirt, beige linen trousers, and engineer boots. And to top it off I didn’t even so much as brush my hair this morning. Look out ladies.
It is my understanding that young, immature girls will piece together the “perfect man”. The details I have on this are sketchy–coming from memories of seeing this on television shows–but I believe these young girls spend quite a bit of time on this project. For the most part they are trying to create the perfect physical man. Take one guy’s eyes, another guy’s hair, someone’s mouth, yet another’s upper body, etc. Well, yesterday I realized what the purpose of this activity was.
This activity prepares young girls for adulthood where all adults will try to build their perfect politicians. Hillary’s universal healthcare plan plus Obama’s speaking ability, add a Hispanic woman VP, etc. It works in Canada too: Harper’s hair plus Layton’s moustache and the Liberals’ superior and sensible platform. It occurred to me that this isn’t something that I’ve heard only once (maybe not those specific examples, but this general concept) and I wonder if women are better at this because of their youth experience in building the perfect person.
This weekend my apartment became that much more female-friendly.
Guys don’t need a garbage can in the washroom. Yes, we’ll use one but we don’t need it. Most of our washroom garbage goes down the toilet. I believe the opposite is true for women. I believe women produce more garbage-can bound garbage that toilet bound garbage in the washroom. I don’t know how, or why, but it seems to be the case. After two and a half years in my apartment in Ottawa I now have a permanent garbage can in the washroom.
Likewise, it is unclear to me what benefit one gets from using a device that blows hot air onto your hair to dry it over, say, hair drying by evaporation. I suppose I could understand the use of such a device if you needed to dry your hair more quickly, but I am not sure I can think of a scenario where one would need to do that. Regardless, I have had countless female visitors (”countless” actually sounds quite promiscuous) exclaim at the realization that they have forgotten their hair dryers. Exclaim no more because I now have a hair dryer in my home. It has three speeds, a cool button, and switchable power supply.
We hope your stay at Ryan J. Allen’s was exceptional and we look forward to your return.
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