Tag Archives: Totally Weird

If your life was a game of Jeopardy, what would your dream categories be?

1. Barenaked Ladies Songs
2. Quotes From The Family Guy
3. Men Think Farts Are Funny. Deal With It.
4. The Arnold Schwarzenegger Accent (Get in the choppah! Arghgwerhhh!)
5. Shameless Franglais 101
6. How Robot Chicken Improved My Quality of Life
7. How Much it Sucks That There Are No Ponderosas or Olive Gardens in Canada
8. “He…. Looka Like a Man”
9. Indian Coworkers Who Love Shania Twain
10. How to Drive Your Mother Mad Just By Being Fifteen

Bonus Round:

1. 90′s rap lyrics

Just a Car Crash Away

Look Ma I'm An Artist!

Last night, I was minding my own business, just heading to Red Lobster for some crab legs with my gentleman friend. I was looking forward to the hot savoury biscuits and the mid-week alcoholic beverage I planned on ordering (don’t look at me like that, Dad, I’m a grown up and I’ll drink vodka on Thursdays if I wanna!) and was just explaining to my companion that I really didn’t understand the appeal of drawn butter with seafood cause, well, it’s just freaking butter and who put butter on meat, anyway?

As we were preparing to pull into the parking lot, we noticed some shit-for-brains on one of those e-bikes zooming down the sidewalk. The sidewalk! Whatta jerk! He was weaving from side to side too – it was ridiculous. So we’re just about to make a right turn into the parking lot (using the driveway with the big IN sign, cause we like obeying signs yo) when a dude in a white work van makes a left turn into the street (from the IN driveway, because he’s a rebel who disobeys signs I guess). This guy was seriously ugly – bright yellowish red afro that started right at the top of his head because of his receding hair line, a sleeveless basketball jersey, and crazy I’m-on-crack bugged out eyes.

Well, he didn’t look where he was going when he pulled out, because he was too busy cackling at e-bike guy, and he T BONED ANOTHER CAR! We saw the whole thing. Read more »

Bicycle Rage

Aaaaaand the bikes go crunch.

Well, that’s it. I’ve succumbed to cyclist’s rage. But not as a result of actually, you know, riding my bicycle. No, my friends, my ire is roused today by some loutish miscreant who lives in my building and who’s been messing with my new blue bike.

(It occurs to me that I haven’t yet written about my newly acquired wheels – maybe tomorrow, when the anger has settled into a plan of action.)

About two weeks ago, someone snuck behind my house, hopped on my daughter’s bike (which, it should be noted, has two flat tires and hasn’t been ridden in over a year) and took it for a joyride in the middle of the night. I never would have noticed, except they didn’t put it back where they got it – they left it leaning against my front porch. What a stupid thing to do, I thought, but it’s really my fault for leaving it unlocked.

From that moment on, I was (a bit) more vigilant in locking up our bikes. I live in a quiet residential neighbourhood and all spring and summer, the bikes were unlocked without a problem. Still though, I didn’t want to tempt fate.

However, Sunday night I forgot to lock my bike, and guess what happened? Read more »

How Far Would You Go To Protect Yourself?

Imagine yourself in physical or mortal danger. If you don’t do something to protect yourself, serious harm or death will befall you or your family.

How far would you go to protect yourself? What would you do? I’d do anything to save my family, you’re  thinking. I would kill to save my son. I would do whatever it took. No questions asked.

Would you lie? Cheat? Steal? Would you defend yourself physically, even if it meant the harm or death of your attacker?

What if your attacker were your own child? Would you kill your own child to protect yourself, if your child were trying to kill you?

Seems a little far-fetched, even to me, that this would happen. I mean really, what child would try to kill its mother? And what parent would, in turn, place more value on her own life than their child’s, and actually kill that child to save their own soul? I can’t imagine that ever happening.

Unfortunately, I don’t have to imagine it happening. Reality has supplied us with this exact scenario in Calgary, Alberta, where Aset Magomadova, a refugee from Chechnya, stands accused of killing her fourteen-year-old daughter Aminat by ligature strangulation [link] in what she calls self-defense.

[link] Toronto Star article
[link] Global News, Calgary

According to the media, the fourteen-year-old girl had a history of drug abuse and regularly took crystal meth, which is known to cause erratic, violent behaviour in users [link], as well as mood swings and unpredictability. The articles go on to say that the police had been called to the home five times in the last five months, by the mother, who feared for her safety and that of her young son, who has muscular dystrophy. Aminat was often brought home by police, high, after violent fights with her mother.

This family obviously had a lot of problems, but despite repeated visits from police for domestic disturbance, no authorities were ever brought in to assist the family, despite Aset’s desire for intervention. She felt she could no longer control her daughter, and with the help of her sister, attempted to convey this fear to the police. She even stayed in a battered women’s shelter for a few days, less than a month ago.

Nobody ever referred her to the appropriate social services, such as the Calgary and Area Child and Family Services, or the Domestic Dispute and Cultural Resources units of the Calgary Police. This family could have been helped. This girl could have been saved.

How did Calgary fail this struggling family after it survived refugee untold horrors at the hands of Russian soldiers? Who knows the horror in that girl’s mind after living through what we can only imagine in our worst nightmares. It’s no wonder she turned to drugs to alleviate the damage done by terror. But it all went horribly wrong.

Now, the girl’s mother is in jail, charged with second-degree murder, and her wheelchair-bound son is in foster care. It breaks my heart. However, I am torn.

I’m trying to put myself in this woman’s shoes. I imagine that Gwen Junior is older, the same size as me, and prone to violent drug-induced rage. I imagine that she beat me. I imagine that she smashes furniture, breaks windows, and runs away constantly, only to be brought home by police time after time. I imagine her coming at me with her fists or with a weapon, hatred and rage in her eyes, intent on causing me physical boldily harm. What would I do? Would I allow her to hurt me? Would I try to protect myself without causing her pain, if it were at all possible? Or, with my backagainst a wall, would I fight back?

The thought haunts me. What would be more powerful: maternal instinct or fight-or-flight response?

* Article originally written in March 2007