Daytime TV: Stealing Your IQ Points One Channel At A Time

Originally posted on Long Awkward Pause:

lap edition 8


Occasionally I leave the office and eat my lunch at home. I get to spend an hour away from the LAP compound (where the microwave still hasn’t been repaired since Chowderhead’s famous Chef Boyardee incident) [Editor's Note:  it was a faulty fuse], plus I get the added bonus of catching a few minutes of daytime TV.

Sometimes though, no matter how many times you change the channel, daytime TV makes you stupider by the minute.

tooth– POWER ON –

“…and our guest today is 20-year-old Janet, a mother of seven, who is here today to confront her cheating boyfriend and ask him once and for all if he has…”


“…poor credit, no credit, or bad credit? No problem! Come on down to Wacky Jerry’s Used Car Emporium and we’ll get you on the road! Visit Wacky Jerry, and before you know it you’ll be…”


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This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 4, 2014 at 8:08 am, in Master Archive.

Dear dance companies: Thank you for rejecting my daughter

shoesMy eighteen-year-old daughter wants nothing more in the world than to be a classical ballerina.

For the past three months, she’s been auditioning for various professional ballet companies across Canada. She has meticulously polished her dance resume, carefully crafted her audition DVDs, and painstakingly selected precisely the right head shots. She is fiercely determined, and, in my completely biased fatherly opinion, destined for greatness.

But last week, we received the last of the eagerly awaited responses. She’s been officially rejected by every single company she auditioned for.

And quite frankly, I think it’s one of the best things that could have ever happened to her. Continue reading

Purging Facebook Friends: Psychological Warfare At Its Finest

Originally posted on Long Awkward Pause:

Deep in the bunkers here at the Long Awkward Pause Command Post, we often receive emails from helpful readers who alert our crack team of investigative journalists to important breaking news stories.

In accordance with our strict standards of journalistic integrity, we carefully review every submission, especially the ones that contain Starbucks gift cards and links to high-quality NSFW pictures.

Occasionally a story demands our attention, and when we read about two new university studies which tried to figure out the most likely type of person to be unfriended on Facebook and the emotional consequences on the dumped friend, well, we just had to look into it.

In the first study, which undoubtedly came from the university’s holy-shit-I-can’t-believe-someone-got-a-grant-for-this department, researchers concluded that the act of unfriending someone is the result of a breakdown in the friendship – something referred to as context collapse.

In the second study, researchers revealed that…

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I helped with the laundry today. Apparently that means we now need to buy a new sofa.

Like any decent husband, I do my fair share of the household chores.

I empty the dishwasher when the dishes are clean, I take out the garbage before it evolves into a life-threatening biohazard, and, when I spill macaroni and cheese on the sofa, I spray Windex on the stain without even having to be asked.

Plus I do my own laundry. The steps are simple:

1. On Sunday, scoop up everything smelly off the bedroom floor, carry it to the basement, and put it in a giant pile.

2. Cram as much of that pile as possible into the washing machine.

3. Pour in one lid-full of the bright blue goop from the large orange bottle, being careful not to accidentally drink the liquid.

4. Turn the dial to Normal, and push “go.”

5. Watch whichever episode of World’s Deadliest Warrior happens to be on Spike TV for 40 minutes until a loud buzzer goes.

6. Remove the wet stuff from the washing machine and put it all into the dryer. If you see or smell smoke, stop the dryer and clean out the lint trap thing before the house burns down.

7. Repeat the process from step one until there’s no more pile.

Like I said, easy stuff.

However, I live with a wife and two teenage daughters, who are all members of the extreme opposite female gender sex, and when it comes to their laundry, the rule in our house is clear:

I am not allowed to touch it.

And this rule is totally fine with me, because female laundry is a completely different animal than male laundry. Female laundry is a complicated business that requires a Ph.D.-level intellect, an acute awareness of the subtle differences between various fabric types (beyond basic cotton and denim, that is), and an in-depth understanding of each setting on the washer and dryer that isn’t marked “Normal.”

I don’t fully understand the entire process, but I’m an observant fellow and from a safe distance I’ve watched how it gets done. I believe the steps go something like this:

1. Walk around the house and determine which clothes need to be washed. Some garments will need cleaning; some will able to be worn again. The untrained male eye will never be able to tell which is which.

2. Move the clothing downstairs and start separating it into special piles. Sometimes you sort by colour; sometimes you sort by fabric. Sometimes there are special “sub-piles” where you sort by both. There are always unusual exceptions that make this step even more challenging than it already sounds.

3. Put one of the piles into the washing machine. Sometimes you add the blue goopy liquid; sometimes the white. Sometimes you add the little scented bead things. Sometimes the water should be hot; sometimes cold. Once in a while you use warm. Some things get pre-soaked, but only for a specified time and that time varies per garment. Be warned that the things that are considered “delicate” never seem to be the things you’d most expect.

4. Don’t take any time to watch Spike TV, as there’s always another pile to sort.

5. When the buzzer goes, remove the wet clothing from the washing machine. Sometimes it goes in the dryer, but often it goes on a rack. Despite your first instinct to the contrary, the rack is better, because even though spreading out all the clothes takes much longer than shoving them all into the dryer, you avoid the risk of choosing the wrong of dryer settings, which can be, I’m told, absolutely catastrophic. I’ve heard stories, and believe me they are not pretty.

6. Go back to step one and repeat for the entire rest of the day.

7. Oh, and the most important thing: don’t even think about touching anything that is silky, has lace, or is measured by cup size. There’s not a guy on this planet who knows exactly how any of that stuff is laundered.

I have no idea how much detergent it takes to wash these. My guess is about six cups.

I have no idea how much detergent it takes to wash these. My guess is about six cups.

At some point later, the female laundry finds its way upstairs and into little folded piles that sit on a generally unused sofa in our living room. We have a busy household and, truth be told, it’s pretty typical for clean laundry to sit on this sofa all week long.

Until this evening, that is, when I randomly decided to do my family members a solid and carry all the clean laundry upstairs to be put away into drawers and/or closets.

Loving Wife was grateful for the help, until about an hour later when the lack of folded laundry gave her a fresh, unobstructed view of our aging sofa.

Without its characteristic layer of protective clothing, it has become obvious that this sofa doesn’t really match the rest of our living room furniture, so guess what? Yours truly just got roped in to spend next weekend shopping for a new sofa.

There’s an important laundry lesson to be learned here, and I’ll definitely be thinking about it all next weekend as we go from store to store to store to store endlessly testing out couch cushions.

Personally though, I’m not too worried about finding something to match our other furniture. It shouldn’t be too hard a task. I’ll simply be looking for a sofa that looks good with a pile of folded towels and t-shirts draped over it.

Superdog is a super wuss.

Okay, picture this scenario:guard

It’s night, and you and your family lay fast asleep while your faithful warrior dog Achilles – a majestic bullmastiff or maybe a fearless Shepherd – rests his head at the foot of your bed.

Suddenly there’s a noise downstairs in the kitchen! Perhaps it’s an intruder!

Instinctively and without thought for his own safety, Achilles springs into action! He has a family to defend. Achilles bravely goes down the dark stairs to investigate, ready to fight to keep his family safe at all costs.

Did you visualize that? Great.

Now let me explain how that same scenario works in my house: Continue reading