9/20/14 SFW
‘It’s’ U2 and the rest
of the boyos sing it better, ‘a beautiful day’, and Cin and his Take This
Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW have taken their act on / the road, deep into the Gatineau Hills,
‘Rugby Club’ our housemate aksed it better, in equal parts terror and horror
and anticipation, when advised of our upcoming trip to Trinidad and Tobago, ‘is
going on / an air trip?’, SFW that film that we videed in Europe somewhere
titled itself better, innit Jenke, So / Fu©kin / What, ‘send an e-mail’ Megan
Fox’s titular character says it better in Jennifer’s Body, ‘to ‘no one
gives a shit.org’.
Ironically enough –
‘ironicallary’ enough, the Liam Neeson character says it better to his street
urchin sidekick in Amongst the Tombstones – a trip to Gatineau National
Park from even deeper within the Gatineau, aka Luskvegas, is required for Cin
to have any kind of human cinteraction at all of a week-end. There’s all kind of people up on out on up on
out up here, eating their bagged lunches and whatnot, and running hither and
yon into, and out of, the forest trails.
Cin will videe the scene at the end of this edition of this Take This
Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW with Big Mac’s camera for you to
videe, dear readers, if only Big Mac and the Genius Bar had figured out that
the last thing that anyone wants to videe is the ugly mug of (b) / (f) / (s) /
Plan (c) loggists the world over, the camera would be facing out, and you’d be
after getting your visuals / sooner, ‘stay OUT,’ the Dick Halloran character
says it better to little Danny Torrence in Kubrick’s take on Stephen King’s The
Shining, innit Mr. King, referring to the Overlook Hotel’s cinfamous room
237, ‘stay / OUT.’
Course Cin’s not all
about after pulling out Big Mac and hulk-smashing away at today’s edition of
this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW of a Sadurday
after before during and after it becomes Another Sadu®day Night And I Ain’t Got
Nobody, in the middle of a National Park without a Plan A having been /
exhausted, Plan A having been to sit his ass down at the café down the road
from up on out on up out here, and reading his homework, aka international
contracting. It’s about as exciting as /
it sounds, Cin requires the out-of-doors, a lot of ©offee, and mad visuals for
to get his two hour shift of that homework in, but get that homework in he sort
of has to, it’s a ©arrot-and-stick scenario before his upcoming so-called trip
/ to Disneyland.
His manager, one of
maybe two (one –id.) in his so-called career who Cin would stop walking to
help, should he find said manager beating brutally beaten in the street – this
being one of (one only –id.) Cin’s criteria for management – is of course a
(wo)manager, Cin long ago gave up on his fellow male managers, getting up in
his grill all the time and ‘fessing up to getting up to shenanigans that they
surely never / got up to, ‘je fume’ a recent one said, repudiating booze well
before Cin’s stint of ®egime Ze®o, but owning up to some of the other vices,
‘tout’, smoking / everything is all / we
gots. One of ®egime Ze®o’s (one only –id.) benefits is that you get to
bad-mouth everone who’s still having / fun, ‘my mate went to one of those last
week-end’, Cin said it better yesterday to the army guys on their way to a
‘mess’ (‘masse’ from the French is the closest guess / so far as to this word’s
epidiomology, innit Mo, as in what happens in a church, or just a ‘mass’ of
people) after work, ‘he passed out on his lawn and his son had to come and
bring / him in.’
Good times, t®ue sto®y,
‘we drank’ you said it better of your day one week ago today - which saw you
going from said mess Friday night, to ‘golf’ Saturday morning, and then to
Montreal for the Rugby Club finals, played at 5:00 PM of all / times, to
monsieur debonaire’s birthday party not ten minutes / from here, innit JD –
‘150 beers’ between you and your sidekick, and though most of this Take This
Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW is fa©tion at best, like the
Engineer in the Engineer’s Song from Choir Practice, Cin has no reason to
believe / you lied, you certainly gave him the run-down reasonably / enough at
monsieur debonaire’s party, giving the run-down reasonably enough is all / we
gots.
Certainly we’ve
quaffed / a few together and apart. At
College Rugby Club, a coach was the owner of the local grocery store, and would
provide not only deep discounts on kegs, but waive the return policy on the
barrel as well, ‘who wants’ Cin aksed it better of the assembled droogies in
the dorm and Binge – Pu®ge Suite when the matter of beer to be purchased with
their accumulated ten bucks came up – a question whose punch-line is usually if
course ‘ a six-pack’, or maybe / a case – ‘to get / a keg?’. Much hilarity / ensued, innit Monkey Floyd.
WTF, U2 has had albums
as / of late, why wasn’t he cinformed?
Grooveshark tells Cin what to listen to, when to listen to it, and how
to listen to it - aka the WTFs of this World, and the most important, ‘the how’,
‘I tell you what to do’ de Niro’s bank robber Neal McAully says it better to a
fellow robber in Michael Mann’s Heat in the L.A. parking lot where they
are after transacting some nefariousness, ‘I tell you how / to do it’ - but Cin
had to goggle ‘The Troubles’ / the cingle (‘single’, and that’s / enough cintax
–id.) up on out on up on out up out here to see the 2014 release date of U2’s latest. Though ‘‘assume’ makes an ‘ass’ the slogan has it better, ‘of ‘u’
and ‘me’ – no less true like most slogans for being irritating, and no less irritating
for being / true – Cin assumes that this tune is about Ireland in the late 20th
century, ‘Irish blood, English heart’ your man Morrissey sings it better in his
song of the same name, and the same could be sung / of ©in, ‘There is no one on earth I'm afraid of.’
It was when all kind
of unspeakable Things happened – and by unspeakable Cin means unspeakable,
there was none of this hulk-smashing away at Take This Thing Back to
Baltimore me-moirs and SFW from these guys, ‘where I come from’ Ed Harris’
Irish-born Boston cop character said it better in the Ben Affleck (credit where
credit / is due, innit perfesser) movie Bye Baby Bye (Gone Baby Gone
–id.), ‘we take our secrets to / the grave’ – and whose ghosts are still being
dug up even now, your man Ian Paisley ®IP’ed only last week, your man was ‘a
teetotaller’ his eulogy said it better, and gave Cin hope better during endless
®egime ze®o, ‘but enjoyed going into the pubs to give the whiskey-drinkers
their ©omeuppances’.
Cin tried that trick
only last month, just down the road / from here, repairing of a TGIFF®iday
after to the local publicans, innit G, only to be ignored for the next / two
hours after ordering one coke, drinking it, and never being offered / another. Cin should have given the motherfuck of a
barkeep a twenty right off the bat after the first coke, and told him to ‘keep
‘em coming’, but assuming makes an ‘ass of ‘u and me’, the slogan has it
better, and hindsight is 20 / 20, your man the barkeep is lucky he’s not
chewing, as the military guys say it better of knocked-out / teeth, ‘chiclets’.
Good times, like the
one in the Shire of Addison County in
the 802 where you raised a ruckus, innit Mo and got bounced for a while -
leaving you not much in the way / of drinking options in the two-tavern town -
this fuck of a place up on out on up out here is the only game in town up on
out on out on up out here, between here and Luskvegas, and Cin ought not to fly
into an unholy ®age and raise / a fuss with his talk of chiclets and all that. Course cinstead he’s ‘assupposed to be after
‘crawling up the 12 steps’ someone wrote it better, and someone else directed
it, if not better, in Among the Tombstones, ‘making / amends’ of a Satu®day
after before during and after it becomes Another Sadu®day Night And I Ain’t Got
Nobody, but he’s had enough / of basements, and that ©oo-©oo for ©o©oa puffs
Liam Neeson movie yesterday after about the same may have broken what’s left of
/ his mind, ‘twelve steps?’ Homer J. Simpson as always askes it better during
one of his many stints on (of ? in ?
after ? about ? -id.) ®egime Ze®o, ‘that’s two steps longer than
from here to / the beer fridge.’ (that’s enough –id.), Homer as always and like
Cin if not necessarily right, is not not / w®ong either, any number larger than
ten for fingers and toes of anything is too large / to remember, if not necessarily
right, not / w®ong is all / we gots.
Oh boy here comes the
Eu®otypes and / the round-ball up on out on up out here in the Park. Cin will have to dust off his Rugby boots for
the alumni round-ball match next week-end against the high school team - he’s
not about to buy soccer cleats for his bi-centennial 90 minutes of round ball –
and stretch a little more before, during, and after the match. Course if it’s as pleasant next week up on
out on up on out up here as it is today, no one will have to worry about
seizing up in / the cold, anyway.
Spaniards these guys and their kids are, diplomatic if
their flawless skin and softly rolled ‘r’s and soft mid-riff ponches are any /
cindication - ‘you’re letting him’ a
relative said it better earlier this month during a post-funeral ©at fight,
‘get fat’, of their Da’s undeniably-expanding hem line - Groucho now after
giving a play-by-play of the action up on out on up on out out here, even as
he’s front and centre in the midst / of it, a ‘st®iker’ he’s called, innit AH,
Cin thinks – ‘meanwhile Homer’s doing something that’s very hard for him’, the
narrator of The Simpsons’ episode from earlier this after said it better,
‘thinking’ – your man the running commentator like the writer / creator and
body double of this Take This Thing
Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW, giving a play-by-play of the action
even as we’re in the midst / of it, giving a play-by-play of the action even as
we’re in the midst / of it is all / we gots.
‘Eight dollas here’,
the scalper said it better outside Fenway Pa®k, innit It, ‘ten at / the Pahk’,
and this blogger, this after, gets all the action ‘that’s fit’ the mast-head of
the New York Times has it better, innit Mo, ‘to print’, all that he can stand /
not for ten ducuts, not for eight, but for f®ee. Like many of the people, places, and things
that he passed by in the hal©yon days
p®e-®egime Ze®o days, without really / noticing, this here Gatineau Park is a
treasure, all kinds of picturesque and family-friendly and ‘fan-’ their uncle
Doc, ®IP said it better, innit It, ‘-tastic’.
Too bad you found it three days before / snowfall, Genius Bar –id.
Still, it’s good
times, Cin will keep his new-found knowledge of how things (don’t) really work
in various Latin countries when it comes to the sub-world / of logistics around
to himself, and let the Euro-types run themselves into exhaustion, running
ourselves into exhaustion is all / we gots.
Finally, ‘goooooooo’ Gustavo yells the inevitable first half of the
scream on his make-shift pitch, as his snot-nosed kid heads in a goal for a
change, followed by ‘aaaaaaallllllllll
!!!’.
Cin gives round-ball
and its’ practitioners the gears, on principle as a member of ®ugby ©lub, but
in truth he played the game for years / decades, and appreciates its simplicities,
like ®ugby - ®oundball’s red-headed stepchild, birthed when your man Webb Elis
at the ®ugby School in England decided that enough was enough, and picked up
the ball and ran around with it, rather than kicking it around only - you need
a ball and a pitch and that’s about / it, and then it’s ‘let’s get ready’ the
equivalent of your man Vince MacMahon in the WWE, wrestling another simple
sport like Rugby and round-ball, made for simpletons, says it better ring-side
while announcing the next (b) / (s) / (m) / (mis) / (gl) / and just plain adventures
in stage-wrestling that are about to transpire, ‘to rumble !’
It was during a road
trip to a tournament in Halifax that Cin and the rest of the roundball team
came across an unforgettable taste of
many adult-coaching / yelling bouts.
‘Imma make you’ their high-school coach, an otherwise taciturn Englishman
(are there any other kinds, other than Sir Percival, innit Sir Percival ?)
yelled at the assembled team, veins popping out his face and neck, after
catching the team drinking beer at the local tavern near the hotel ‘run around
the hotel in your cleats until / you puke.’
Good times, it was a
good line and a good threat – “I want you’ remains the best pre-match line of many
so far for Cin during his ©ameo up on out on up on this Dog and Pony Show thus
far, delivered by his College ®ugby Club ©aptain, ‘to die / for me !’ - and it would have made an even better story
if the assistant coach hadn’t calmed your man the coach down some, and actually
helped steer the team to the tournament finals, if Cin’s not mistaken - which
between all the drugs and the booze and the cincussions and we weren’t that
bright to begin with, innit DD, he may / well be – losing only to an American
team, Massholes they were, from Massachusetts, who came up with all kind of
trainers and therapists, and surprised us by taking running approaches to their
throw-ins and flinging themselves into a somersault at the end before the
throw, because better delivery.
Also of note on that
Halifax trip, the team captained of course at the time by Cin’s old high school
f®enemy / BFF, AH - ‘your picture’ Cin said it better and truthfully to AH
earlier last month, of the halls of their Alma Mater, home next week-end to
their 25th anniversary, god forbid, innit god, ‘is all over / the
place’, this as a result of a certain local notoriety held by AH as the host of
various telee and radio shows around town – was the infamous Nanaimo joke,
innit It, the punch-line of which required the teller to take a hefty swig of
beer from the pitcher – the heftier the better – and then deliver the first
half of the punch-line, ‘how far’, spewing the beer all over / the audience,
the previous details and work-up of the joke cinvolving of course mad amounts
of oral / sex, ‘to Nanaimo?’. You can
tell the joke using milk to snort under ®egime Ze®o, but somehow it just ain’t
/ the same.
And that ladies and
gentlemen was of course ‘assupposed to be Cin’s punch-line to this Sadurday
after’s edition of this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and
SFW, but as he’s found as of late, Cin can hulk-smash away at the same for a
good two hours straight, and not notice that his two-hour shift / is over, or
have his cell-phone buzz and buzz and buzz away to the same / effect. It’s about to rain up on out on up on out on
up out here, and Cin promised you some visuals, and will upload them after they’re
done to the iCloud or goggle inc. or whatnot, along with the rest of the
Fappening, innit Genius Bar, but he owes this edition of this Take This
Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW an extra five minutes – the sin
bin if you will, cintroduced to ®ugby ©lub regulations as of late for grievous
/ fouls, and ten minutes you spend under the opponents’ goal posts, and a
longer ten minutes do not exist on god’s green earth, innit god, the ©in / bin
- added to his two-hour shift, this time for goggling some nonsence or another,
the usual / excuse, oh yeah it was U2.
We’ll check them out again - prolly the very next time that this Take
This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs is brought to you by the letter ‘ U’ (cintengent
on the date of the month, September 1st = letter “A’, 2ns = ‘B’ and
so on, -id.)– and plus, Bono and the boyos gave a great pared-down performance
at the Grammys last winter, giving a great pared-down performance is all / we
gots.
Thanks for reading
this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and SFW.
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