Sticky Heaps of Wisdom

Salutations, fellow humanoids... this is once again the honest-to-goodness Lexiphage... accept no substitutions!
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Bit of Wisdom #1: As pointed out by my number 1 fan, I also have noticed the time for entries on my blogs are always off. There are several reasons for this:
1) I never bother to set the thing.
2) Probably someone set it up in a different time zone (?) and
3) The time posted is doubtless the time it goes up after approval from the government, who, as everyone knows, reads all of our personal correspondance as a matter of course. Well, they skim it. Any time they read anything too critical of their pigdog regime they arrange a disappearance... fortunately, it has to be done in an inconspicuous manner, which occasionally makes it difficult. Thus far my genius has allowed me to elude their lawful retribution, but how long will that last...?
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Bit of Wisdom #2: Never attempt to eat a handful of thumbtacks.
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Bit of Wisdom #3: Life is like warm, wet putty in the hands of God... if you're a good boy or girl he'll let you stick your finger into it and maybe lick it off...
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Bit of Wisdom #4: If you have attempted to eat a handful of thumbtacks, a glass of water will NOT help them to get down.
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Bit of Wisdom #5: Democracy was originally invented in Athens, Greece in ancient times to combat the tumult caused by every king's rule lasting only long enough to get stabbed in the back by some guy who wanted to be king. In other words, it was invented for the purpose of increasing stability; there was no point assassinating a democratic leader as someone new would be elected a short time afterwords anyway. This shining beacon of humanitarianism allowed anyone to take part, thereby keeping everyone reasonably happy (or at least less angry), again, to increase stability. Of course, only those whose opinions actually mattered were taken into account (thusly women, the lower classes, the sick & infirm, immigrants, slaves, people born outside of marriage, criminals, or people below the age of 30 or above the age of 60, or anyone who lost the fight when their neighbour wrestled their voting disc off of them, were disqualified). It is in that fine tradition that Western society does its' best to hand us a small group of people to choose from every election day, and makes sure that no one who has a decent chance of winning is worth voting for. That is why, next election, make sure you vote- a vote for one candidate is a vote AGAINST all the others.
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Bit of Wisdom #6: An inexpensive way to make a bullet-proof vest is to take a tank-top, soak it in a pot of chili, and then wear it continuously until it fossilizes.
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Well, that's probably enough wisdom for the likes of you. Don't want to overwhelm you or anything. Take a few years to absorb it and maybe I'll write another after that.
Until later then, may your mouth be free of thumbtacks, your shirt of chili, and your future of elections; signed,
The Antedeluvian Lexiphage.

Ultra-short post

Hi everyone out there in Internet-land. Once again the Lexiphage has returned to make your life more fulfilled.
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Today I'm going to take the kids to daycare, have tea with my sister, talk to some government funding people from each of 3 different agencies, have some coffee, and re-wake up Mya who already fell asleep again this morning. Then I may have lunch, hang with the kids, and paint some toy soldiers. If I have any time left, I'll call a government complaints 1-800 number and leave the phone off the hook for an hour.
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Seeing as how Fiddling Granny and Gryping Granny are away and can't read this, I am obligated to say something nasty behind there backs... Nyah! Nyaaaah! Nyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! You can't see this but I stuck my tongue out there too. That'll teach 'em!
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Told you this would be a short post!
Aloha!
The Superluminous Lexiphage.

Ranting to a smaller audience

Bonjourno, fellow humans (and anyone else who's watching)! The Lexiphage has once again entirely filled his brain with information of dubious quality, and therefore has seen fit to make space by dumping the excess on you.
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A quick apology for my last post... (I'm not a politician, I can apologize!) my use of the word "satietous" was stretching it. "Sated" would have been a better choice (although not as fun), and when other people use a bigger word just to be pedantic, I usually foam at the mouth and swing around blindly with a goalie stick. I shall endeavour to be a mite less fraudulent in my wordosityousness forthwith.
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So, I have had a fair weekend, and for that matter a fair week. The rugrats are apparently in daycare solidly now, without men in dark glasses hanging around the classroom, so I may have pulled that off. My courtroom drama unfolds on a fairly regular basis; on Friday the Crown Attorney apparently agreed that in a couple of months when I finish the Anger Management course they bamboozled me into, they'll seriously consider maybe going through with their part of the bargain, which is maybe considering to possibly not bother to prosecute me to quite the full extent of the law because they know they would lose anyway, unless they decide to make an example of me because I'm a white male Anglo-Saxon protestant(ish) who, by reason of being alive, obviously spends all of his time oppressing everyone else.
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This week I will continue the fight to claim a new Birth Certificate for Mya, but I will have to go back to Aurora to reclaim some forms which were being held for that purpose or they'll kick my daughter out of daycare for the grevious sin of being born in a position where she has to leech off a system which by all rights should be taking care of richer children so their parents can spend more time at the country club.
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Lastly, I am hoping to have the opportunity to do some publisher research at the local library on, say, Wednesday or so, when the kids are in their thingy, so I can poison the world with my veiwpoint in hard copy, through bookstores. Here's hopin'.
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I think that's all the news I have... Apparently Fiddling Granny and Mr. Gryper will be unable to keep pace with my posts for awhile, as they're wandering the untamed wilderness for a bit, so they won't mind... Anyhoo, I'm hoping to come up with some kind of serious news for my Canada Day Blog, you know, to mark the occassion. Keep watch for something really funny to catch fire in Mr. McGuinty's garbage. Until then, keep one eye watchin' over your shoulder for the Men in Black, and one eye lookin' over the other shoulder for the government trying to lift your wallet.
Later,
The Enigmatic Lexiphage.

The Devil is a Cab Dispatcher

A round of shaken hands for all, the Lexiphage is back in town.
So Mya is headed back to school tomorrow; she did her first day on Wednesday and apparently took to it quite well. The day-care professionals are less tolerant than I of chocolate milk spills, so it looks like I'll have to pack several shirts for her every day; however, she appears to be learning some communication skills; she said "Hi" to me upon my return, and appears to be speaking a little more already.
In other Mya-related news, she went for another walk with me yesterday, beating her previous record of a half a block by about 50 or 60 feet (for you young Uns, that's about 15-18 metres. I don't know what the metric equivelant of a block is).
Gavin is really starting to take to the Big Brother role, apparently running to her defence whenever she is distressed either at daycare or in the company of a babysitter... which brings me back to the subject of my anger management classes (by way of needing a babysitter while I'm gone to them... C'mon, work with me here!).
As you probably saw in the title above, the Lexiphage has a slight greivance against a certain transportation-related occupation. I don't know if this happens to you all, but it seems whenever I call a cab and ask how long the wait will be, I get the standard "5 to 10 minutes" response; however, this never actually answers the question, because in Taxi-ese, apparently "5 to 10 minutes" translates into "at least 20 minutes, but probably more. Tell you what, start walking now, and when you get where you were going, call the cab company back and ask if they bothered to send anyone." TWICE in a row now, attempting to leave the Fortress of Anger, I have called the local cab company, and guess how many times they said "5 to 10 minutes?"
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Stay with me here...
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The actual journey to where I catch the bus to return to civilization is approximately a 10 minute drive away, assuming pretty heavy, crappy traffic.
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Still with me?
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Now guess how many times it has taken me an hour and ten minutes to catch the bus.
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If you guessed two out of two, you're bang on. And going in the opposite direction, to the Fortress of Anger, the service is only slightly better- you have a 50/50 shot at either the 45 minute or the extra-quick 25 minute "5 to 10 minutes". It actually takes me approximately the same amount of time to travel BY BUS to WOODBRIDGE as is does to travel BY CAB to ANOTHER PLACE IN WOODBRIDGE, THAT'S LESS THAN 2 MILES AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know, it wouldn't bother me so much if they just said "We're really busy. It'll be 45 minutes before a cab gets there, and when he does, he'll be the guy who smells like barfed-up garlic stew and can't speak a word of English, French, or even Indostani. But we appreciate your business!"
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Next time, I'm going to call the cab company, order a pizza, eat the pizza, digest the pizza, sit and wait for the cab for a REAL 5-10 minutes, then walk the whole way myself, and then call the cab company again. Then when they tell me they're sorry for the delay but the cab will be there in 5-10 minutes, I'll call them every 5-10 minutes for the next three weeks just to let them know the time. And I'll burp into the phone really loud too, just to be a jerk.
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I also think I'll tell telemarketers from now on that my work number is the cab company's, and they should call me there.
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Well, if I start on any more subjects, I'll have to write more of these: ..., and we wouldn't want that, so I guess I'll go listen on the phone for any phone-tap clicky noises, and then I can tell the government off directly.
Until next time, stay satietous!
The Sardonic Lexiphage.

Slightly busy

Hiya fans!
Thusly the Lexiphage returns, toting his trsuty measuring tape and jar of salsa!
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Had a busy day today... let's see... I finalized the paperwork (on one end, anyway) for Mya's daycare thingy and hand-delivered the papers to the other end of town; I hand delivered (by that I mean I took stuff there, not removed anyone's liver) more paperwork to Legal Aid, took the kids to McDonald's, went shopping, bought bus tickets, walked halfway across town to avoid waiting for a bus, paid a couple of bills, went shopping again, picked up a magazine from the comic shop my freind owns, took the kids to the doughnut shop for lunch, mailed a letter, returned home, made a dozen or so phone calls, made the kids a snack, and by that time I realized I'd done it all on that infuriating double stroller with the bad wheel, so when Mya went for her nap I finally fixed the wheel on the stroller then I woke Mya up, got the kids some chocolate milk, went to the bank, visited their Gramps, went shopping again, returned home (again), made the kids supper, put the kids to bed and then came down here to check my e-mail... All without a car (even my e-mail!!). I think that's more or less it...
Whew!
I was rather proud of my fix-it job on the stroller; I drilled a hole through the axle with a potato peeler (that took me an hour or so) then secured the wheel back on with a section of a cow's leg bone and glued it in place with rubber from an old pair of shoes I melted on the stove. To really make sure I used a whole bottle of superglue and a couple of nails as well. Then the wheel wouldn't turn, so I attached a ski under that corner instead. It makes a lot of scraping sounds, but it's less annoying than the rickety wheel.
Mya starts daycare tomorrow, so I have to make sure she's on time for her first day... of course I started things off well so far by getting them to bed an hour late, but I suppose that's the price I pay for productivity. On the up side, once I get through this busy streak I'll have a few hours three times a week to lounge around on the porch getting drunk on a combination of rubbing alcohol and linseed oil.
Well, I'm gonna go and have my habitual evening coffee before I fill in the last of Mya's paperwork and fall asleep on the toilet.
Bye bye all,
The Nugatory Lexiphage.

Bonus Post!!!

Hello, computer nuts.

I'm insanely proud of myself 'cuz I just figured out all the nasty codey bits of this blogger thingy and reprogrammed them with my usual style, grace and record-setting good taste. A few bits are hidden so have fun finding them if you're bored at 3 a.m.

Ciao for now,
the Dauntless Lexiphage.

Crawling towards payday

Salutations Lexikateers!
Were we all good this weekend? No?
Good for you! Or is it bad for you?... oh well...
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Finally after what seems a millenium of waiting, today is the day before payday. My hands are shaking with trepidation and I'm hoping all those silly rules about "jinxing" things are only as real as honesty in politics. My printer is out of ink and my mouse is getting so cantankerous it's reminding me of Mr. Gryper in an uncooperative mood. My wardrobe, and that of my offspring, is in desperate need of resupply, and the fridge is completely free of alcohol. During such a time of desolation, I sometimes nearly lose hope, until I remember the words of Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy's, who said... something... er... well, it was a good one, anyway. You know the one I mean. Something about a teacup and a frog. Anyway, tomorrow I will be dining on expensive things like simulated balogna, bully beef, no-name corn flakes, and the expensive kind of hard-tack, and drinking all the tapwater I want; and there will be much rejoicing.
...YAY!!!...
I had a good weekend, where my beloved gaggle of short people were removed from my presence not once but twice; they got to see their mother, which apparently they enjoy, and now that my wife isn't with me I actually heard people other than myself wish me a happy Father's Day.
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I walked all over hell's half acre this morning, having the worst bus luck I can remember having, narrowly missing three busses I think and giving up on one when my bus tranfer expired while waiting. It's a rare occassion that the busses get me where I want to go faster than if I just walked, especially during summer, but I never seem to learn...
I also made another record today; this is the longest string of consecutive days I've had since 1992 that no one has asked me for money. Even my ex-wife has given up asking, which is pretty remarkable. This of course, does not include telemarketers, who are nearly as unstoppable as gravity, taxes, or the ignorance of the masses. I'm of the opinion that the various utility companies must now be sharing my confidential information in order to expedite removing my financial posessions from me more efficiently. Perhaps they're getting their information from that huge computer system the HRDC says they don't have any more, and never used even when they did have it anyways so we should just all trust them and shut up. Not that the government ever shares that information either, because that would be illegal, and if our government started doing illegal things, there would be chaos, right? Whew!
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I have a sudden urge to go buy a golf course in Quebec and write the bill of sale on a paper napkin in pencil.
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Oh, well, enough ranting for today. Well, online anyway. You know I'm going to go hang with my son and discuss the inherent flaws of democracy with him while he watches Ice Age for the 30th time today. Then I think I'll have a nice meal of spelt flour right out of the bag. That's good eatin'!
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Have a nice life (or nice lives, I guess...),
The Vitriolic Lexiphage.

A Present for Susan

Ola, every buddy. (I know that was a spelling error; it was intentional.)
I was going to wait a day or two to post but Susan appealed to my ego. To paraphrase Zaphod Beeblebrox, if there's anything more important than my ego on the web, I want it shot and killed right now.
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So, I went down to Wood-a-bridge to attend my first session of anger management, and gosh, but I feel better. There are supposed to be ten sessions in this block, and so by the end I imagine I'll be up on a cross somewhere forgiving the people who put me there. Me and around a dozen angry Italian men watched a video which brought back nostalgic memories of "Blood Flows Red on the Highway", and "Safety Circle". To make a long and uninteresting story short, four rage-happy people walked the line between conversation and bloodbath, confessing their problems with cocaine, road rage, and throwing people out of windows, after which we had a conversation about which lunatic we identified with the most. Apparently my anger type is the same as a black woman who shrieks at her son for getting a "C" on an otherwise straight "A" report card and in her spare time chokes down fistfuls of sleeping pills.
As I said, I feel better already.
Other events which occurred today included chatting with the daycare funding people so Mya and Gav can get their exposure to sane people in the real world. Flying in the face of precedence, I was more or less prepared and theoretically Mya can start next week or so.
I also chatted with Legal Aid regarding my financial situation since the lunatic kicked me to the curb; again defying precedence they were quick and efficient, so on my way out I checked to see which country's government they worked for. Apparently our Legal Aid system is run by the Swiss.
No doubt as I write this my mother and sister are doing the Coyote Ugly routine at Saint Alban's, whilst Rob belts out "Always Something There to Remind Me". I wished to attend in order to consume toxic levels of intoxicants but, alas, there was a babysitting deficiency so I lodge in the Lair and instead consume instant coffee and chicken nuggets.
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As an aside, exactly which part of the chicken is the "nugget"?
I'm betting it's a mix of neck and tongue.
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Well, that's about as much computer monitor radiation my retinae can withstand; I think I'll go upstairs and subject myself to TV radiation instead to give me time to heal. If I manifest any unusual genetic mutation over the next few days you'll know the reason. Have a funkeriffic night of funk, and I'll funkify your funkiness at another funkture.
May your path be flat, brown and comfortable to walk upon,
The Sybaritic Lexiphage.

New Developments

Salutations, computer people! Once again you are in the presence of the Lexiphage. Lots of stuff happened today, so hold onto your hats.
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Today Mya, my two and a half year old autistic daughter, had several discoveries: first, she discovered her shadow, and spent several hours moving her arms, touching her head and observing the phenomenon. Secondly, Mya normall is paranoid about walking outside and normally only walks two or three steps before planting herself on her butt. Today she walked with Gav & I on the way back from picking up the mail a half a block away. Thirdly, she discovered she could push open the bathroom door and observe me on the can. I guess I have to make sure it's closed solidly from now on.
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Today Gavin (my 4-year old autistic son) went to the school he'll be attending next fall and met his teachers and classmates. It looks like a good program. He got bored and wanted to leave after a half hour or so, but that's par for the course. Also today Gav made progress towards riding his tricycle; he actually pedalled for about ten feet, but didn't actually realize he had done it. I praised the heck out of him anyway, and he knows something happened... maybe he'll catch on next time.
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Today I finally got a return call from the people I'm supposed to see about anger management, after only calling them four times over two months. Apparently if I go to anger management the Crown will agree to consider not harrassing me after only another year or so, due to the thing I didn't do that nobody in the world believes I did. That'll teach me. All they wanted me to do was rustle up a babysitter and get down to Woodbridge by 2 tomorrow afternoon. That's fair; I only gave them fifty days' notice, so they generously gave me 22 hours notice in return. (By the way, thanks to my sister Devon for once again bailing me out!) It's a good thing that I only have 2 autistic kids, no car, no money until next week and two appointments to cancel to accomidate them. It'd be a pity if one of the lawyers involved had to leave a $180 lunch or golf game 5 minutes early to come up with a reasonable solution instead.
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On the more reasonable side of things I also walked four miles or so today pushing a 100 pound stroller (including the two kids) with a wheel that fell off halfway there.
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Well, I'm going to go collapse from exhaustion. Oh, yeah... maybe I should eat something. I'll see if I can catch a bat in my teeth on my way out from under the bridge. Yummy!
Ciao for now, the Emaciated Lexiphage.

P.S.: I heard a rumour an Al Quaida terrorist plans to put a half a peanut in each public school bathroom in New York City. Authorities are beating to death anyone of middle eastern descent carrying any Planter's products. Be warned! Carry chips instead!

Screaming Peanut Death

Aloha from the office of the Lexiphage!
Woah... here comes someone respectable. Quick! Pretend you're reading a celebrity gossip column! Whew. That was a close one.
Today I spent piles of time with my brood of skulduggerous munchkins, and watched more hours of 'Beauty and the Beast' than polite words can express. If anyone says "Bonjour" to me I'm gonna lose it!
Back to reality... I have a question for everyone. Is it just me, or are the public school boards run by demented lunatics? (How's that for a return to reality?) I have a problem with this peanut thing and how 998.8 kids out of every 1000 have to cut out peanut butter because the parents of the remaining 1.2 kids can't tell them DON'T EAT THE POISON. Gavin and Mya (my kids) are both preschoolers and autistic, and I have never EVEN ONCE had to tell either of them "No, kids... don't eat the power saw blade while it's running. NO!" If Gavin attempts to steal a mouthful from a beer or glass of wine from one of the grown-ups, I just say "Gav, that's a grown-up drink," and he leaves it alone. But these few kids with HORRIFYING DEADLY ALLERGIES are apparently also born with another disability- STUPID PARENTS and/or STUPID SCHOOL BOARD REPRESENTATIVES. You know what I think would be good to keep out of schools? How about FIREARMS. I'm not a devout gun-control nut, but I know I've heard of a lot more deaths in public schools from bullets than peanuts. I'm willing to bet that more kids are vulnerable to anaphalactic shock from BEING SHOT than EATING AN M&M.
Fortunately, we don't have to worry about either, because our all-knowing government has seen fit to protect us from ourselves by removing the need for us to exercise our own brain cells. And really, isn't that what our society needs?
For example, instead of worrying about nuclear waste being generated by all the new nuke plants McGuinty and his handlers are hollering about, waste that will essentially NEVER go away, and will remain horrifyingly deadly to any living thing exposed to it for millenia to come, instead let's worry about school populations being wiped out in second because a drug dealer smuggled a peanut butter cup into math class. I mean, haven't you seen the commercials? The government says nuclear energy is clean, and shows pictures of blue sky when they say it!
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Well, I'm convinced.
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Thanks for listening... er... reading. I needed to get that off of my chest. I feel much better now. I think I'll go have some peanut butter on toast.

See ya on the flipside,
The Fastidious Lexiphage.

Crazy People part 3

Salutations, fellow plebians; it is I the Lexiphage.
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So I went to the infamous Granny's Cottage for a day and a half, and luckily the blackflies were under control; I can only assume that the insidious forces which constantly shadow my slightest move removed them for their own convenience prior to following me up there. Well, there may be another explanation but that's the most entertaining one. Highlights of the weekend included a campfire marshmallow roast, breakfast burritos, and various self-destructive elements of my familia leaping into water which was of a temperature clearly suitable for preserving food (assuming a clear, waterproof container, of course, but that's another story). My son Gavin had his first experience sailing, and despite his difficulties with speech managed to say "want to go on boat" the next day, in many variations.
Now, back to the 'Crazy People' storyline...
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As an aside, just because I refer to it as a storyline doesn't mean it isn't true. I do use a bit of creative license for drama's sake, but I'm writing this, so I have...er... license. Stop interrupting me!
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So I get a call from the ex's aunt, finally filling me in on the escapades of said ex (I grit my teeth at this point). Last I heard she was heading for Stouffville and out of meds... apparently now she's much more lucid and living at a group home in Bradford. How long this is supposed to last, I have no idea, but at least she apparently has an address. Theoretically she is planning to go to a shrink to get officially declared sane so she can have greater access to the kids, but in the meanwhile, her Dad taking them to see her will now theoretically resume. Theoretically.
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Forgive me if I do not hold my breath.
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Anyhoo, so there are vague possibilities things may actually work out in a relatively normal fashion, assuming God doesn't have it in for me. Regardless of how things turn out in that respect, most other aspects of my life seem to be working themselves out and with my life clearing up a little I am hoping to have more time to complain about the government and be paranoid.
Until next time,
The Sisyphean Lexiphage

Collapsed on the beach

Bonjourno, folks.
Once again the Lexiphage has emerged from beneath his bed, risking his very life, to broadcast his humble messages to those whose days need brightening. Don't feel guilty; I take pleasure in the misfortunes of others as well, and have giggle cramps to prove it.
This weekend my brood of miscreant offspring and I will journey to the distant north to visit Granny in her log cabin; I am looking forward to drinking water straight off the glacier and eating bear meat straight off the bear. (A note to the wise: bears really hate this. If you're going to eat bears this way make sure you bite really hard!) We will be enjoying the journey on the roof-rack of my sister's Significant Other, Rob. (For those who don't know, Rob is a politician and entertainer, kind of like McGuinty only funny on purpose.) Once there, Granny and her wide and varied descendants will no doubt spend the weekend in competition for how many blackflies we can slay.
In reference to the above title, I plan to spend the weekend lying face down on the ground attempting to regain my breath.
Anyhoo, looks like this will be a short post, as I have to go pack my grapple-gun and bear spices. See ya on the flipside,
The Meretricious Lexiphage.
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P.S. : Granny, I'll tell you what Ptyalismic means when I get up there. 'Bye!

All hail the wise Doctorologists & Lawyerese

Greetings, fellow earthlings, it is I the Lexiphage.
Many apologies for not posting these past many days; I had a few chores to do which resembled the Twelve Labours of Hercules.
Now I am past Hump Day, I feel I can breathe easy for a few microseconds and recount the interesting events of the last few days.
First, the big news. I went down to Markham-Stouffville hospital today and Gavin & Mya now have their complete diagnosis: Gavin has classic Autism, and Mya apparently has the same as well as a Global Developmental Delay. They said little about the severity or whatever, so the actual information I gleaned personally was scant, however now that the diagnosis is official I can mail copies to all of the government people whose job it is to tell me why I don't qualify for anything and tell them they are out of a job.
Mya is now the age she needs to be to attend Gavin's preschool program, and the only thing which stands in my way is actually talking to whoever is in charge of my funding to get the go-ahead. So she should be in class early next century. I went to court on Tuesday to be berated in Criminal Court; apparently the Crown does not need to provide proof in this case as I agreed (in theory) to go to this stupid anger management thing they want me to take... (ANGER MANAGEMENT? WHAT KIND OF #%!@*!^ IDIOT WOULD THINK I NEED #%!@*!^ ANGER MANAGEMENT ???)
Anyhoo, apparently I needed to have a contract signed in blood to qualify for the Crown's generous deal, but instead of allowing me to back out the judge said I'd better get one or she'll throw me upside down into the Turkish prison toilet they keep around for occasions like this.
After a short stay in the stockade where I gratefully recieved sixty lashes (not my actual punishment, just to keep me honest) I had a little chit-chat with my lawyer and on the up side he thinks he can sort out the paper I need my absentee ex-wife to sign. Without the testimony of the drooling maniac, my word & the word of OHIP. my old doctor, the hospital & so on, that Mya exists she apparently no longer does & therefore can't get a birth certificate or new health card. (I may have found a loophole in the health card thingy).
Well, that covers the major issues; the details (it's all in the details) will have to wait for another blog while I regenerate the tissue on my bloody, raw typing fingers.
So long for now,
the Ptyalismic Lexiphage

Crazy People part 2

Hiya everyone! This is the Lexiphage signing in.
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So, for the third time in the past couple of weeks Jillsey is out of the hospital. Her aunt called me last night, and fills me in.
The hospital changed her meds, and she showed marked improvement, so everyone agreed she would take a couple of weeks to recover while they found her an apartment and got her set up like a sane person. Of course, they figured she was no longer a security risk...
The minute they aren't looking, she bolts; apparently now, however, the hospital figures she's all fixed up and okay to roam society at large (unlike, say, a week ago). Not that she has any meds with her or anything.
Apparently this time she headed for Stouffville, where her brothers live, and no one has heard from her since; from what I understand, not even her brothers. She has virtually nothing with her but a shiny new paycheck (I assume from ODSP, her old moneybag) and a feverish desire to spend it. I figure once she's frittered that away she'll show up wanting a stipend of some sort... her brothers won't support her, I'm certain of that.
Anyway, so if anybody sees anyone foaming at the mouth in Stouffville, you haven't seen me.
Ciao,
the Salubrious Lexiphage.

The Great Grocery Adventure

Hiya to all internetites.
Here yet again.
So I was having a frustrating day today, involving a late cab with a snotty driver, hollering kids and so on, when I finally end up at the trusty doughnut shop. I order my usual assortment of kid-bait and coffee, and while they are retreiving it I realize I have no cash. I still have some in the bank, though, so I can run over and grab cash at the ATM next door. A neighbour is in the store as well, so I ask her to watch Mya, who is precariously balanced between napping and shrieking, and therefore can't be moved until the balance shifts.
I take Gavin with me next door... mistake number one. If you've ever tried to remove a 4-year old from a doughnut shop prior to his doughnut infusion, you'll have a rough idea of the volume of protest I recieved. Gavin refused to listen to my explanation and figures we must be going shopping (the ATM is outside of a grocery store) and attempts to go inside twice while I wait in line. Once the machine has my card, Gavin bolts.
Fool that I am, I assume that Gavin is within line-of-sight and howling for doughnuts, and therefore impossible to lose. During the brief moment when I am pulling my cash and card from the infernal machine, Gavin dissappears between three shopping carts; however it appears he's headed just outside the door, and someone hand-signals me something which apparently I misinterpret confirms my suspicions.
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As soon as my belongings are safely in my hand Gavin's shouting stops, and I run outside to where I THOUGHT I had seen him last. No sign... I ask a bystander if she's seen a wailing four-year-old pass by, and she is clueless. I look along the sidewalk in each direction... no Gavin. So I go into the store... no Gavin. I ask the first cashier, the one right in front of the door if she's seen him. Not a sign. I dash back and forth out of the store and around the surrounding area, looking for an apparently invisible child, seeing and hearing nothing.
Of course, Mya is still in the hands of a neighbour the next store over, but I can't return there minus a child...
In the grocery store, I and a nearby customer suddenly hear wailing and hollering again as apparently Gavin suddenly realizes I'm not behind him- in the space of maybe a minute he's on the far side of the store where a clerk who knows me is already leading him back to the entrance and myself. After a round of profuse thank-yous, I return to my other offspring who is sleeping soundly.
Gavin is so shaken by the ordeal he doesn't want the damn doughnuts any more, and instead shifts back and forth between crying, drinking chocolate milk, holding my hand, and attempting to tell me what happened.
...
After all that, I really needed my coffee, so I hooked Gavin up to a chocolate milk IV and alternated between chugging caffeine and consoling the boy.

Gavin is now secured to a 6-litre engine block in the basement with six feet of cow chain. But he gets to watch Dora the Explorer from there, so we're both happy.
Have a good weekend,
the Paternal Lexiphage.

The life of a fugitive

Hiya. Your freindly neighbourhood Lexiphage here doing my best to fight evil in all its forms- especially Country music (shudder).
Not a lot to report today; I spent much of my time lurking through the shadows to pay my bills for the month, avoiding the watchful eyes of lunatics at large and other common hazards. I had to deal with several evils today, including the bank, cable company and phone company. Just in case the powers-that-be have search engines trolling the Net for libel suits, I'll avoid naming names.
Had a brief respite in the doughnut shop with the kids; Mya is beginning to take her penchant for chocolate milk to extremes, and Gavin likes to lick his Timbits and put them back in the box for me to find. Ahhh, relaxation!
I ended up forgetting one bill I'll have to pay tomorrow (those Hydro people keep coming up in these blogs) and in the meantime I'll just have to watch for the dreaded Hydro mercenaries I've been hearing so much about. Apparently they use electrified nunchucks, and usually manage not to zap themselves while swinging them around.
Anyway, it's past my bed-time and I'll catch a whipping if I remain at my desk any longer. I'm going to hurl myself into my humble cot and sleep with one eye open (looking for little red lights shining in the window).
...
You don't think living with a lunatic for five or six years had any lasting effect on me, do you?
...
Have a squishy, cozy, fuzzy, warm and snuggly day, full of warmth, freinds, hugs, goodness, light, happiness, contentment, refined sugar, and less-toxic-than-normal food additives.
Bye-bye all,
The Obstreperous Lexiphage.