The Trailer Park Boys... and Mike...

So I have this friend, Mike Roney, and does this dead-on Bubbles impersonation. Bubbles, of course, of Trailer Park Boys fame. So, TPB makes their way to Regina and Mike heads down to a local radio station to meet the guys, having already met with the radio station to make sure his impression is up to par. He only snagged one pic with the boys, who were admittedly, fiercely hung over -- but it is still one for the ages.

When he sent it to me in an email, I replied with the following:

"Frame that. Hang that. Admire that."

Good work Rones...

The -hungover- Trailer Park Boys and Roney ( on the far right)

I've Choked Bigger Men Than You!

I just love Conan's reactions to Ferrell's comments. This makes me howl everytime I watch it.

The Mighty Mustache

"A man without a moustache is a man without a soul"
~ Confucius

You know what I like? Mustaches. Anyway you shape em, mustaches are cool. Often times referred to as a stache, they are the pinnacle of macho male grooming.

(**ATTENTION** Female mustaches are NOT cool. They are disgusting and anyone who says otherwise is not welcome here. Mind your business people. I am not in the mood...)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the Mighty Mustache. I think the stache needs to come back, in a big way. Its been too long since a leading man in Hollywood rocked a full on stachio. Hell, who cares about them phonies in Hollywood, let's bring em back ourselves... I say we should bring the stache back into the fold of coolness, and not just indie-coolness... I'm talkin mainstream coolness... I'm talking Old Navy mainstream coolness that will get today's adolescent men to start sporting a stache from day 1.

In case anyone is curious about the stache but isnt sure what style to roll with, let's just break down (in no particular order) the top types of the stache, shall we?

- The Conventional Dad Stache
This is your run of the mill, neatly trimmed, edge of the lip but no further stache. You can see these everywhere, and while they are cool because they are a stache, I would have to say that this style is tough to pull off an make it look cool... unless your a Dad... or PGA Tour star Corey Pavin, circa 1996.


- The Bushy Stache
Here is another that is a tough one to pull off, unless your at Oktoberfest or your name is Wilford Brimley. This one is usually full and completely covers the top (and sometimes bottom) lip. Normally, the Bushy Stache doesnt reach much further than the edges of the top lip, as once it does, it loses that Bushy feel and leans more toward Handlebar.


- The Rollie Fingers
This stache is a fierce one that takes uber-dedication to the world of staches to pull off. I mean, if your buying wax and/or other product just for your mustache, you my friend, are fierce. This stache is distinct in its style where you grow the sides fairly long and take the time and effort to twirl and curl those sides into their signature shape.


- The Porn Stache
Johnny Wadd originated this one, and it has honestly taken on many different shapes and sizes in its day. Be advised though, just because a man who is "acting" in a porn film has a mustache, it doesnt mean he is rockin the Porn Stache. They are a completely different beast. The Porn Stache is often wispy and unkempt, sometimes too long in certain areas and too short in another. You can often see the skin of the upper lip through the regions of the Porn Stache, but not too much, because if you could, then it would be approaching the Cheesy or the Korean Stache.



- The Cheesy Stache
See any 12 or 13 year old boy who has yet to shave his mustache. Often confused for dirt, the Cheesy Stache is one that can not be grown or displayed. Ever. If your stache is Cheesy, then shave it. I am sorry for you, but you and your Cheesy Stache will not be permitted entry into this club of proud stachers.


- The Korean Stache
If you were to draw a cartoon or a caricature of an Asian man and you filled in his mustached with 7 or 8 generously spaced vertical lines, then you have the definition of the Korean Stache. (**This is not meant to be a slur or a put down of any kind, it is simply an observation of mine with a gross generalization for a title.) Often coupled with the Cheesy Stache in modern use.


- The Fu-Manchu
This long wispy stache is one that can be seen in almost every Kung Fu or Martial Arts flick. This is a stache that boasts sides so long that they hang down well below the face. This stache is best left to those aforemtentioned movies.

- The Two-Part Stache
Any mustache that is separated in the middle of the upper-lip by a distinct parting of the hair thanks to a bald patch. This title is often couple with other types of stache - for example, "He's rollin with a Two-Part Rollie Fingers!"


- The Magnum
This one was made famous by Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I., and it is one that is as famous as it gets. There is no doubt in my mind that Magnum would not have been a hit show at all had Tom Selleck been bare-lipped. This famous Stache is one that really needs no description, as everyone should know it by mere mention of the name. However, for those of you who dont, its part Dad-Stache and part Bushy, but it extends past the reaches of the mouth corners. Recently, Jason Lee and his character on the show "My Name is Earl" have brought back the Magnum a little, and while it isnt in the same league as Selleck's beauty, it does fit the style mold. Please note... this stache is unrivalled in its awesomeness.


- The Handlebar
Coming in a close 2nd to the Magnum is the Handlebar, and this is one that is my personal favorite (see my blogger profile pic for proof). Hulk Hogan made this one his own, and in his hey-day, you could say that his blonde Handlebar was as much his signature as his whole shirt-ripping routine, or his use of the words "Brother" or "Vitamins". The Handlebar is aptly named, as this stache is one that extends down the sides of the mouth, stopping just before the ridge of the chin or in any area reasonably close to that.



- The Paul Teutul
This is a variation of the Handlebar, where the sides of the stache extend on below the chin as far as the hair will grow. This is an extremely difficult stache to grow and maintain, so I recommend that unless your name is Paul Teutel, you leave this one alone.



- The Milk Mustache
Not really a mustache at all, but Gisele Bundchen is friggin hot.

I think I have covered them all, but I'm not entirely sure, as I am sure that many people out there have seen staches in all other shapes and sizes. If you think I have missed one or would care to argue about my categories, feel free to email me at chriszimmer@sasktel.net or leave a comment.

Now, to wrap this rambling up, I just have to say that it takes a special kind of man to grow a stache, as not everyone can pull it off. You need a certain amount of moxie to rock a stache, you need the right mix of self-confidence with a sense of self-effacing humor. Its tough to do, and that is why the list of famous stachers is so short.

If you do decide to join me in bringing back the stache, then consider yourself warned on the trials and tribulations of the stache.

Rock on good soldiers... Rock on...

Until Next Time...

Seriously... who hits a deer?

I do -- that’s who.

So I'm driving home from our softball game last night, the wife, Paige and I are cruising Northbound on Lewvan right by those ball diamonds that are just South of Regina Ave. We are casually talking about my looming trip to Edmonton this weekend, and I turned to look in the back seat to see what Paige had in her hands. Then all of a sudden -- BAM! Badaboomthumpboom! I look to the passenger side to see short haired brown flesh whip past. I gain control of the CR-V, slow it down and pull over -- all the while looking to the front corner of the passenger side to see what kind of damage there is. As I pull over I see this poor bastard of a dumbass runt idiot deer laying in the middle of the lane on Lewvan Drive. Luckily for us, Chad and Candice were following us (as we were en route to Dairy Queen for a little celebratory blizzard action) so they pull over as well.

I get out of my car to survey the damage. It is substantial in its range, but minimal in its severity. A nice touch was the large amount of deer hair caught in the plastic of the wheel well. A nice little reminder indeed. After getting our wits about us and making sure everyone is ok - Paige's eyes were as big as saucers at this point, she didn’t know what the hell was going on - we figure its best to call the Police to have them come get this deer of the Lewvan before someone else hits it, and as I am on the phone with Regina's Finest, 3 or 4 more vehicles decide to stop and view the spectacle. In my opnion, it takes a special kind of person to stop on the Lewvan to see whats going on with a half-dead deer in the middle of the road. And by special I mean odd -- in that creepy does he have human body parts in his fridge kind of way. And yes, by this time, the deer had come around and had even tried to get up and flee the scene - but when it did, its hind legs buckled like the Oilers and it continued to lay there. The Police are about to transfer me to the Dept of Highways to get ahold of a Conservation Officer, and now the crew of onlookers includes Mr. Creepy, a couple younger guys who are talking about "that’s an easy way to hunt" and another older cat. This last older dude claims to have a .22 in the hatch of his 03 Hyundai Tiburon and reportedly asked the Police if he could shoot the deer himself. Shoot the deer himself?? Who does this guy think he is - Jack Bauer?? The Police told him No - thank Christ too, because he had a wild look in his eye - and I'll be honest when I say it was the first time I had ever been afraid of anyone driving a Tiburon (HI-OH!).

Anyway, the clock keeps ticking and Mr. Creepy decided he is going to kneel beside this poor deer and pet it for some reason. I don’t know if he was a deer whisperer of some sort, or if he just had a thing for animals with numerous broken bones and serverly damaged internal organs. Now I'm a compassionate guy, but I think I would think twice before I decided to kneel down and gently stroke the side of a dying deer - IN THE MIDDLE OF EFFING LEWVAN DRIVE!

After about another 5 minutes, the deer finally lifts its head up and looks around - at me. I swear to God he knew it was me that hit him because he gave me a blank stare. I don’t know what it meant, but it was distinct in its blankness. After giving me the eye - the deer hobbles up to its feet - sorry - hooves and again tries to scamper away - across the Lewvan. If you ever thought that scene in Bambi was cute where Bambi just starts to learn to walk - well, believe me - if they ever do a scene where Bambi tries to walk after being hit by a 05 CR-V, its not cute. Its sad and a little disturbing. This poor deer's legs where crossed up like a yoga instructer as it hobbled across Lewvan (amazingly avoiding more traffic) and then it came to its final resting spot in the ditch on the far West side of Lewvan.

Well, the cops finally arrive - and the dude in the Tiburon and the loaded weapon in the back decides its time for him to take his leave, and as they survey the scene in their copl-like fashion, I calmly ask if they need me to do anything or if I can get the hell outta dodge before they take their glocks to Bambi's head. The coppers write me up an accident report for SGI purposes - apparently because blood, spit and deer hair all along the passenger side of my vehicle wouldn’t be enough to make an adjuster believe I hit a deer. As they finish up, the Conservaion Officer rolls up, at which time Mr. Creepy takes off too, leaving only myself, Chaddy and these two younger hunter-types who keep saying things like "They better put that thing down" and "Give me your sidearm, I'll do it - I probably have better aim than you anyway - ah-hyuck".

And while I was curious to see these officers in action and to see them put this poor deer down, I decided to take off -- I mean, we still had to get to Dairy Queen for our celebratory blizzard! We had to celebrate not only our ball game win - but my first kill as well!

(Oh yeah - and one more thing. A little cherry on top of this little story is that the ball diamonds that are right beside where I hit this deer - yup, they were packed with kids 12 and under. I can only imagine the horror. They were probably like - "look Mom a deer!" - then BAM… then tears... then therapy and the removal of that Bambi poster from their bedroom wall.)

I hope you enjoyed this story - as it is another tale in the classic series of "Chris Zimmer and The Worst Luck Possible" -- look for my forthcoming volume entitled "The Time I Threw Away the Winning Lottery Ticket".

signed,
Big Buck Hunter
whoneedsariflewhenyouhaveacr-v@lewvandrive.sk.ca

"No big deal... it's just a little hair..."

"Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want to."
~ Ellis "Red" Redding : The Shawshank Redemption

Okay, admittedly the above quote may be a little dramatic for this post, but the underlying message remains, enduring foulness to get where youre going or get something done.

Now, I didnt have to smash a sewer pipe in my recent reno adventure, but I did have to endure some foul smelling foulness, and while it wasnt that funny at the time, it makes for a good story, so I gotta share it.

My wife and I are in the latter stages of renovating our bedroom and main bathroom, so we decided to lump our ensuite bathroom into the mix as well. It got a fresh coat of paint, a new wall vanity, mirror, countertop, taps and sink. Well, after a professional came in and installed the countertop, I installed the sink.

I have to say that just before I tore out the old sink, we had noticed that it was draining rather slowly, and with that bathroom being used primarily by my wife to "get ready", I was more than sure that it was just hair that was hindering the water flow.

"No big deal," I thought, "just a little hair... I'll get it out of the p-trap when I replace the sink."

Well, after getting the new taps installed and the sink all in place, I got down to solving this drain problem...

...remember what I said... "just a little hair"...

During these home renovations, I have repeatedly consulted what I like to call the "Reno Bible". Its that orange "Home Renos 1-2-3" book from Home Depot, and it has tips, hints and instructions on pretty much every aspect of home renovations. It's a really handy reference guide, and it makes for great bathroom reading... both while working on one, and sitting in one...

(I know, bad joke. Sorry about that.)

Anyway, I was reading through the tips on doing plumbing and it says things like "know when to call in a professional" and "doing a job right the first time is cheaper than having to fix it down the road"... you know, standard, "You can do it. We can help." type stuff... but there was one note that I got a kick out of, and it read something like "if you are not interesting in getting dirty or sometimes dealing with unpleasant smells or materials, then doing home plumbing probably isnt for you"... fair enough, I think. If you dont like shit, dont do shit... got it...

...but hey, I was just dealing with "a little hair" in a slow moving drain... no big deal...

Okay, I dont know how many of you have ever opened a p-trap before, but for those that havent, it is not a pleasant experience. When you send stuff down the drain, it's gone. Out of sight, out of mind. But man, some of the stuff that remains in those pipes is not nice.

So, I sit down in front of this p-trap with my tools and my bucket, and I am about to unscrew the nut at the bottom of the p-trap, you know, the one they put there so you can get into the trap to work on clogs, or if you drop your diamond ring down there, and my wife says to me, "Oh yeah, I dropped a barrette down the drain a while ago".

Nice, so I'm now positive that this barrette is causing the slowness. No big deal. A wedged barrette and "a little hair".

So I unscrew the nut at the bottom of the trap and instantly this blackish water flows out, followed by a thick midnight black liquid that looks like ink... followed by the most disgusting smell that has ever graced my olfactory senses...

I almost hurled.

Never before have I been close to wretching from a foul odor, I mean, cripes, I'm a guy! But this *odor* was so intensely sour that it brought me to the brink.

Think rotten eggs covered in mouldy sour cream, sitting in a pile of warm, composting stinkweed leaves nestled in a bed of shit-covered burnt hair.

You think I'm kidding.

Anyway, I gotta get back to work... so, after blinking the tears from my now burning eyes, and fighting back the urge to vomit. I reach my fingers into the bottom of the p-trap, and I instantly pull out the barrette. It falls into the bucket with a harmless *splish*. But there was no hair caught in it.

I look closer and I see a few hairs hanging out of the bottom of the trap, so I reach in and pull on them...

... the image that followed will haunt my dreams for years ...

Suddenly, out of the bottom of the trap slithers this pitch-black snake of hair that was as thick around as the pipe... yes ladies and gents, it was a 1-1/4" thick hairball that was about 6" long... It looked like a really big burnt hot-dog... and man did it stink! *gag*

Amazingly, amidst all this, my wife Lisa remained at the bathroom door to watch the ordeal, and we both shared a collective "Oh. My. God." when that hair snake slopped out of that pipe. Looking back, it was actually quite funny. I would have liked to had a camera set up.

After running some water to clear out some more of the debris, I put things back together and cleaned up. I was about to take this bucket of foulness outside to dispose of it when Lisa said, "let's take a picture"... great idea...

So here it is people, in all its gory glory...

Yuck... But hey it made for a good story, and at least the drain works properly now...

***Tangent Alert***
Before I end this rambling post, I gotta ask -- How is it possible that women can lose that much hair and still have these full flowing manes of beautiful locks? I mean, that hairball was approx 3 times the TOTAL amount of hair I have on my head, and it somehow managed to fall out of my wife's head (and who knows, maybe the previous owner's wife's head too). I dont get it. If that much hair fell out of my head, I'd be right between Michael Chiklis and Howie Mandel on the baldness scale. Crazy...

Anyway, enough for today... have a good weekend... and hey, if you want to save this picture I have posted and use it for your wallpaper or something, feel free... I shouldnt be the only one haunted by it...