The Long And Short Of It

Bank of Montreal

Playing Corporation Games, Changing Corporation Names

Once upon a time, long, long ago, before the internet, computers, tablets and smart phones, we had the time to use big words, and impressive speech and writing, and businesses had imposing names.  Then progress(?) brought us Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest and all the rest, and our memory and attention span got carved up into little 140 character slices like cheap sushi.

Soon, we were so busy posting pictures of the baked beans we had for lunch that everything had to be shorter, faster, sooner!  The military especially, got into the business of acronyms.  SNAFU to you, too.  The government gave us FBI, CIA, DEA, IRS and NSA.  Companies began re-inventing themselves in sound-bites, or bytes.

The American Oil Company shortly became Amoco.  Standard Oil turned into Esso (S.O.).  Even the Off-Broadway Awards ended up as the Obies (O.B.s).

The record I think, belongs to the City of Los Angeles, which has truncated down from its original, Spanish name of “El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula”, to the easily recognised L. A., a 98% reduction.

In Canada, it appeared most noticeable among the banks.  It seemed the larger the company, the smaller the name became.  A century ago, we had time to talk about The Canadian Imperial Bank, and The Bank of Commerce.  When they merged to become The Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce, they soon became known simply as C.I.B.C.

The Bank of Toronto seduced The Dominion Bank of Canada, and their married name, The Toronto Dominion Bank, was soon merely T.D.  When they almost went down the toilet with some American banks, they were White Knight rescued by Canada’s largest trust company, wisely named Canada Trust.  Strangely, there now seems to be time to say TD/Canada Trust – except by the Americans.

The financially re-invigorated corporation has now taken over a chain of 1300 small banks, east of the Mississippi.  They are known in the U.S. simply as TD Banks, so that Americans don’t think we’re stealing all their cash.

Nobody wanted to merge with poor little Bank of Montreal, and shortening its name to B.M. had unfortunate implications, so it became BMo – Bee-Moe.  When banks stopped being places that just stored and lent money and paid interest, BMo spun off BMo Financial.  To keep the banking separate from the gambling investment side of things, BMo Financial now owns The Bank of Montreal.  When they desperately try to drum up banking business with TV ads, they speak of ‘BMo-Bank of Montreal.’  They have come full circle, and the tail is now firmly wagging the dog.

Company names used to accurately and completely describe what a company did, made or sold.  You knew you were going to get greasy hash from ‘Bob’s Diner’, whereas ‘Roberto’s Food Emporium’ might be a wholesale warehouse, a grocery store or a restaurant.

I worked at Waterloo Metal Stamping, which made parts strictly for office furniture.  So many people approached them to make outside parts that they changed their name to Waterloo Furniture Components.

While not making them shorter, some companies hide behind silly names with no informational value.  If it hadn’t been for a class-action lawsuit, caused by allowing a Chinese company to make yoga pants so thin that the labels on panty liners were legible, I would never know what Lululemon was all about.

Likewise, what the hell does the company named Zulily do for a living??!  These two look like they were named by the smoked-up losers in a scrabble game, from leftover tiles.

Is there a literary copyright© on the name Ali Baba?  We have an Ali Baba Steakhouse locally.  I just hope those are beef steaks, not camel.  I think the company Alibaba, has a name which appears to have been formed by a rear-end collision.  What do they make/sell – camel saddles, sesame rolls, flying carpets, oil lamps??  Open says me – and tell all.  It would take a Genie-us to know.

I recently saw an online ad for a product called Lolo.  It came complete with a questionnaire.  Do you take Lolo?  Are you a doctor who prescribes Lolo?  Not without knowing what the Hell it is!  It turns out to be a new, cutesy birth-control pill.  Just what we needed.  It contains a heavy dose of obfuscation.

Do any of you have any silly name stories?  Don’t rush.  I’ve had enough for a while.   🙄

#474

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Evolution of Intelligence

 

Bible

 

 

 

 

 

Is Evolution Proven?

A reader complained that two Provincial politicians have gone out of their way to deny evolution.  These politicians are correct.  The root word for evolution is evolve, and the word evolving means an on-going process.

Taken in that light, are those who believe in evolution not humans, or are they not humans anymore?  When a farmer plants corn seeds in the spring, does evolution – an ongoing process – yield a different crop?

And by the way, did corn, trees, weeds, flowers also originate from the same cell that developed monkeys, humans and animals?  Did stones also originate from that same cell?  Is evolution a proven fact? (1)

The writer also stated that politicians cannot express their Christian beliefs because, “their religion does not belong on Parliament Hill.”  Yet he implies that it is OK to bring his religion to Parliament Hill, because, when I do a Google search for a definition of religion, among the Oxford Dictionary meanings given is, “a pursuit or interest followed with great devotion.”

This man puts his trust in man, and believes that man can save himself, and Christians believe in God, knowing that God is the only one who saves. (2)

Ignorance is not a quality I value in my government, nor should you, yet this letter writer demonstrates that very ignorance.

Faithful Christian

dinosaur

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evolution Not Debatable

I wonder if Faithful Christian’s anti-evolution objections are cynical, straw-man arguments, or merely the ignorant type.

To even suggest that crops would evolve in a single growing season displays a disturbing ignorance of the mechanics and time-line of evolution.  It doesn’t happen overnight.  It usually takes millennia, or eons.  Guided by farmers, knowledgeable in its workings, the corn grown today only vaguely resembles that found by explorers, 500 years ago.

The intelligent humans of today who believe in evolution, evolved from ignorant Neanderthal cavemen.  And yes Faithful, the first living cell, produced by God, obeyed His directives, and split many times, in many ways, to evolve into the almost infinite range of life here on His Earth.

To speak of stones having cells is, at best, hypocritical, but even stone evolves.  Spewed lava eventually evolves into basalt, and plain, loose sand, crushed beneath the weight of miles of seawater, evolves into firm sandstone.

“Evolution” is not a test of faith; it’s a test of intelligence.  God is not lying to us.  Fossils really are millions of years old.

Grumpy Old Archon

 

So, I was forced to miss yet another chance to keep my mouth shut.  Several newspaper readers had been writing about how much salt they had to use to achieve the municipally-mandated ‘bare concrete’ walkways in front of their houses.  Salt kills grass, pollutes waterways, ruins shoes and rusts out cars.

I was going to send in a letter suggesting that people try Urea crystals.  It melts like salt, but is a fertilizer, without salt’s bad side effects.  The biggest problem is finding it, and cheaply.  As a fertilizer, summertime and agricultural Co-ops yield the best results.

When I saw the above letter, I couldn’t resist tweaking the nose of another ‘Good Christian’, especially when he claimed to decry ignorance, and then asked such ignorant questions, and made such ignorant claims.

(1)

I cringed when I read the original subject letter, with its claim that evolution is a ‘fact.’  It appears to have more supporting evidence, but must still be taken on faith, just like religion.

(2)

This passage has absolutely nothing to do with the validity, or lack, of evolution.  The letter writer just throws it in to provide an emotionally-charged, fear-of-Damnation-raising, broad, believable base, for his otherwise baseless objections.

Fully Insured

The following are actual statements found on insurance forms, where car drivers attempted to summarize the details of an accident in the fewest words possible.  These instances of faulty writing serve to confirm that even incompetent writing may be highly entertaining.

Coming home, I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don’t have.

The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its intentions.

I thought my window was down, but I found out it was up when I put my head through it.

I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way.

A truck backed through my windshield into my wife’s face.

A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.

The guy was all over the road.  I had to swerve a number of times before I hit him.

I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and headed over the embankment.

In my attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.

I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home.  As I reached an intersection, a hedge sprang up, obscuring my vision and I did not see the other car.

I had been driving for 40 years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident.

The telephone pole was approaching.  I was attempting to swerve out of its way when it struck the front end.

I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident.

As I approached the intersection, a sign suddenly approached in a place where no stop sign ever appeared before.  I was unable to stop in time to avoid the accident.

To avoid hitting the bumper on the car in front, I struck the pedestrian.

My car was legally parked as it backed into the other vehicle.

An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished.

I told the police that I was not injured, but on removing my hat, found that I had a fractured skull.

I was sure that the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road when I struck him.

The pedestrian had no idea which direction to run, so I ran over him.

I saw a slow moving, sad faced old gentleman as he bounced off the roof of my car.

The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.

I was thrown from my car as it left the road.  I was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.

***

Condom

 

 

 

 

 

Consistent with the Bi-Cultural Policy, the Canadian Government is now considering changing the National Emblem from the Maple Leaf, to the condom.  The reasons are that the condom withstands inflation, slows down production, protects a bunch of pricks, and gives a false sense of security while one is being screwed.   🙄

Big Talk

Stool

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two little kids, aged six and eight, decide it’s
time to learn how to swear. So, the eight year
old says to the six year old, “Okay, you say
`ass’ and I’ll say `hell'”.

All excited about their plan, they troop
downstairs, where their mother asks them what
they’d like for breakfast. “Aw, hell,” says the
eight-year-old, “gimme some Cheerios.” His mother
backhands him off the stool, sending him bawling
out of the room, and turns to the younger
brother. “What’ll you have?”

“I dunno,” quavers the six-year-old, “but you
can bet your ass it ain’t gonna be Cheerios.”

***

Is there life before coffee?

***

Fu, Bu and Chu immigrated to the US from China.
They decided to become American Citizens, and
“Americanize” their names.

Bu called himself “Buck”
Chu called himself “Chuck”
and Fu had to go back to China

***

There is a new statute in Pennsylvania that all
lawyers must be buried 20 feet under.

You see, they’ve found out that deep down all
lawyers are really good.

***

Smartness runs in my family. When I went to school
I was so smart my teacher was in my class for five years.

***

If you put the federal government in charge of the
Sahara Desert, in 5 years there’d be a shortage of sand.

***

After God had created Adam he noticed that he
looked very lonely. He decided to help. He said
“Adam, I’ve decided to make you a woman. She’ll
love you, cook for you, be sweet to you, and
understand you.” Adam said “Great! How much will
she cost me?” The answer came back, “An arm and
a leg.”

“Well,” said Adam “what can I get for a rib?”

***

How many mystery writers does it take
to screw in a light bulb?

Two: One to screw it almost all the way in and
the other to give it a surprising twist at the end.

***

The kindergarten class had a homework assignment
to find out about something exciting and relate
it to the class the next day. When the time came
for the little kids to give their reports, the
teacher was calling on them one at a time.

The teacher was reluctant to call upon little
Johnnie, knowing that he sometimes could be a bit
crude. But eventually his turn came. Little
Johnnie walked up to the front of the class, and
with a piece of chalk, made a small white dot on
the blackboard, then sat back down.

Well the teacher couldn’t figure out what Johnnie
had in mind for his report on something exciting,
so she asked him just what that was. ‘It’s a
period’, Johnnie explained.

‘Well I can see that,’ she said, ‘but what is so
exciting about a period?’

‘Damned if I know,’ said Johnnie, ‘but this
morning my sister said she missed one. Then Daddy
had a heart attack and Mommy fainted.’

***

An Army sentry had been posted at a base road gate, with the firm instructions that no vehicle was to be allowed on base without a special pre-authorized sticker.

A large car rolled up with no sticker, but a military driver and an officer in the back.  “Halt.  Who goes there?” he said.  The driver replied, “It’s General Wheeler.”  “I’m sorry; you can’t enter without a sticker.”  The General says, “Nonsense son, drive on.”

The sentry stepped out to block the car and repeated, “You can’t enter the base without a sticker for your car.”  The General said, “I’m a General.  I don’t wait.  Drive on son!”

The sentry pointed his rifle at the driver’s window, leaned forward and said, “I’m new at this sir.  Do I shoot you, or the driver??”   😕

Gun Safety vs. Gun Control

 

Colt 1911

 

 

 

 

Dear Mr. Government;

Please roll me up in bubble-wrap, and put me in a big box full of non-toxic packing-foam peanuts, so that nothing – not even a bad word – can hurt me.

***

Recently, some Idiot (a woman, as it turns out – just to disprove female claims that all Idiots are male.), managed to get herself shot to death in an American Wal-Mart, when her 2-year-old son reached into her purse, beside him in the shopping cart.

She was described in local papers as “an atomic scientist.”  She was a chemical technician who worked at a power plant.  This is not Big Bang Theory!  She was an ‘atomic scientist’ in the same way a homeless panhandler is a “Charitable Donations Canvasser.”  Still….

In an outpouring of telling others how to run their country and their lives, a Toronto area man sent the following letter to the Toronto Sun, titled More Gun Control:

I just read about the tragic death of a 29-year-old mother in a U.S. Walmart.  She was shot by her two-year-old after the youngster pulled a gun out of his mom’s purse.

I can’t think of any reason why it would be necessary to bring a loaded gun to go shopping.  What a waste of life, not to mention the emotional scars this child is going to have to deal with the rest of his life.

The NRA and its lobbyists need to be muzzled and better gun controls in the U.S. are long overdue.  There’s been too many of these senseless events for far too long.

I agree that it was a sad and preventable occurrence, but this writer leads a far too protected life, and uses way too many hysterical mistakes and lies to justify it.  Even the term “loaded gun” is a loaded term.  Can he think of a reason to bring an ‘unloaded gun’ shopping?  The title is another flag to show his bias.  He doesn’t advocate ‘Greater Gun Safety’.  He demands ‘More Gun Control.’

Through lack of forethought and research, I recently spent a weekend in a dangerous part of Detroit.  This was near Eight Mile, where the white rapper Eminem got street cred by growing up in a tough Negro area.

My motel had an armed security guard patrolling after dark.  My place was quiet, but the downscale motel directly across the street was well known for gunshots and police and ambulance calls.  The pizza shop on Eight Mile had floor-to-ceiling, half-inch thick, bullet-resistant Plexiglas.

The ‘Trade Center’ (more like a cheap flea market) that we went to on Sunday, had signs on the doors which read, “All hoods must be removed on entering”, and “We will provide a security escort to your vehicle, but we will not carry merchandise.”

As an unarmed Canadian tourist, I was very careful where I went, and when.  I can understand and sympathise with local residents who feel the need to carry firearms to protect themselves from gangbangers and drug dealers.

If even the Trade Center management feels the need to provide protective escorts, there must be a good chance that there might actually be someone in the parking lot to protect from.  I might not need a handgun while I’m shopping, but if there’s someone out there who wants to rob/rape/kill me before I get to my car, then I might need the gun when I leave the store.

Just what further “gun control” does this conservative Canadian feel Americans need?  The woman in question underwent a background check, and endured the 10-day waiting period.  She paid for, and enrolled in, a concealed weapon carry permit training session.  She was psychologically stable, and the weapon was duly registered.

Sadly, stupidity still carries the death penalty, and she’s posthumously (there’s no other way) enrolled in the Darwin Award hall of shame.  While she might have been intelligent enough to work at a nuclear generating plant, neither training nor legislation can instill common sense.

To have a loaded gun is one thing.  To have a loaded gun with several children around, including a busy, curious two-year-old, is something else entirely.  The story does not say if the purse was open, but even if it was closed, she was not paying sufficient attention to the child and the gun, sitting side by side.  The gun was not merely loaded, but almost surely must have been cocked, and the safety off.  Little two-year-old hands can’t do these things.

Just what ‘senseless events’ is he referring to, the accidental shooting death of a mother by a young child?  I don’t ever remember hearing of another!  Perhaps he could worry less about the NRA’s somewhat overzealous desire to preserve the legal right to possess firearms, and vent his indignation on gangs and druggies and other criminals who make carrying them seem like a good idea.

And that’s a view on Gun Control vs. Gun Safety from a grumpy, old, unarmed Canadian, north of the border.

Department Of Agriculture

 

 

Lawn Mower

Department of Agriculture

Bulletin: No. 265

 

The Care and Operation of a Rotary Power Lawn Mower

 

The rotary power lawn mower is a boon to shiftless suburbanites whose lawns are full of Dandelion, buckthorn, and other weeds too tall for the conventional reel-type mower.  The rotary power mower however, is not an unmixed blessing.  Unseen sticks and stones, to say nothing of unburied rocks, will raise Hell with the blades.  So will nails, bits of wire, and other metal debris.

These problems fade into insignificance though, when compared with the unhappy result of running this type of mower over newly deposited dog shit.  Until you have had your shoes shined with pulverized dog shit, you cannot appreciate the extent of this problem.

Now cat shit, to be sure, smells far worse, but cats, as everybody knows, are more careful to cover up their waste than are dogs.  Moreover, cats do not shit as much as dogs, unless you have a very large cat, or a very small dog.

There are several approaches to the problems of animal excreta and the rotary power mower.  First, you could buy a dog, bigger than all the other dogs in the neighborhood, and train him to keep all the other dogs off your lawn, and also to shit on the neighbors’ lawns.

The obvious drawback to this method of combating the problem, is that one of your neighbors might buy a cow, and train it to shit on your lawn.  It has been estimated that a rotary power mower, operating at 3750 RPM can hurl a normal cow flap as high as a second storey window, and over an area of 5000 square feet.

Building a fence is a second possible solution, but it is expensive.  Also, it is no good unless you can train the wife and kids to keep the gate shut.  Then too, some dogs will jump the fence, even when full of shit.

There are various commercial preparations, sold mostly to evil-minded old ladies, which are supposed to stop dogs from screwing lady dogs on your front porch, pissing on your shrubs, and shitting on your lawn.  These chemicals are worthless however, since it is second nature for dogs to screw and piss.  A dog’s philosophy in life is, “Anything you can’t eat or screw, then piss on it!”

This then leaves three other possible solutions:

  1. Let the God-damned weeds grow.
  2. Move into an apartment, and use the mower as a fan.
  3. Wear only brown shoes when mowing the lawn, and associate only with people who either don’t mind the smell of dog shit, or are too damned polite to mention it.

**********

 

Having previously told you what it’s like when you create a little odor, this is what it’s all about when you really get down to business

 

THE DUMP LIST

 

GHOST DUMP

That’s the kind where feel the shit coming out, have shit on the toilet paper, but there’s no shit in the toilet.

 

CLEAN DUMP

The kind where you shit it out, see it in the toilet, but there’s nothing on the paper.

 

WET DUMP

The kind where you wipe your butt 30 times, but it still feels unwiped.  So you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear, so you don’t ruin them with a brown stain.

 

SECOND WAVE DUMP

It happens when you’re done shitting.  You’ve pulled up your pants, and then you realize you have to shit some more.

 

BRAIN HEMMORAGE THROUGH YOUR NOSE SHIT – or the – POP A VEIN IN YOUR FOREHEAD SHIT

The kind where you strain so much to get it out, that you practically have a stroke.

 

RICHARD SIMMONS SHIT

The kind where you lose 30 pounds.

 

CORN SHIT

Self explanatory!

 

LINCOLN LOG SHIT

The kind of shit that is so huge that you’re afraid to flush the toilet without breaking it into a few pieces with the toilet brush.

 

DRINKERS’ SHIT

That’s the kind of shit you have the morning after a long night of drinking.  Its most noticeable trait is the tread marks left on the bottom of the toilet.

 

“GEE, I WISH I COULD” DUMP

It’s the kind where you want to shit, but all you can do is sit on the toilet, cramped, and fart a few times.

 

SPINAL TAP DUMP

That’s the kind where it hurts so much coming out, that you swear it was leaving you sideways.

 

WET CHEEKS DUMP – or the – POWER DUMP

That’s the kind that comes out so fast that your ass cheeks get splashed with toilet water.

 

LIQUID SHIT

That’s the kind where yellowish-brown fluid shoots out of your butt, splatters all over the inside of the bowl, the whole time burning your tender anal sphincter.

 

MEXICAN FOOD DUMP

A class all its own

 

PHOTOGENIC LOG – or – GUINNESS RECORD DUMP

That’s the kind that is so huge that it stands out of the water and waves at you.  You remove the toilet paper, grab a camera, and take a picture for the World Book of Records.

Beating The System

A couple in their late 60s went into the doctor’s office.  He said, “What can I do for you?”  The man said, “Will you watch us have intercourse?”  The doctor was puzzled, but agreed.  When the couple had finished, the doctor said, “There is nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse.”  He charged them $50.00, and they left.

This happened several weeks in a row.  The couple would make an appointment, have intercourse, pay the doctor the $50, and leave.

Finally, the doctor said, “What exactly are you trying to find out?”  The man said, “Oh, we’re not trying to find anything out.  She’s married, so we can’t do it at her house.  I’m married, so we can’t do it at my house. The big hotel downtown charges $100 for a room, and the fancy one by the airport wants $125.  We do it here for $50, and qualify for a $45 rebate from the Government Health Plan.

***

ME MUDDER

When my prayers were early said
Who tucked me in my widdle bed
And spanked my ass till it was red?
–ME MUDDER—

Who lifted me from my cosy cot
And set me on an ice cold pot
And made me pee if I could or not?
–ME MUDDER—

And when the morning light had come
And in my crib I dribbled some
Who wiped my tiny little bum?
–ME MUDDER—

Who did my hair so neatly part
And pressed me gently to her heart
And sometimes squeezed me till I’d fart?
–ME MUDDER—

 

***

Dear Mom and Dad:

It has been a couple of months since I left for college.  I have been remiss in writing, and I am very sorry for my thoughtlessness.  I will bring you up to date now, but before you read on, please sit down.  Okay?

Well then, I am getting along pretty well now.  The skull fracture and concussion i got when I jumped out of the window of my dormitory when it caught fire shortly after my arrival are pretty well healed.  I only spent two weeks in the hospital.  I can see almost normally now, and only get those sick headaches once a day.

Fortunately, the fire and my jump were witnessed by the attendant at the gas station near my dorm.  He was the one who called the Fire Dept. and ambulance.  He also visited me at the hospital, and since I had nowhere to live, he was kind enough to invite me to share his apartment.  It’s really just a basement room, but it’s kind of cute.  He is a fine boy. We have fallen deeply in love, and are planning on getting married.  We have not set an exact date yet, but it will be before my pregnancy begins to show.

I know how much you are looking forward to being grandparents, and will love taking care of the baby as I continue my schooling.  The reason for the delay in our marriage is that my boyfriend had some minor infection which prevents us from passing our premarital blood test, and I carelessly caught it from him.  It will clear up soon with the daily penicillin injections I am taking.

I know you will welcome him into our family with open arms.  He is kind, and although not well educated, he is ambitious.  He is of a different religion from ours, and I know your oft-expressed tolerance will not permit you to be bothered by the fact that his skin is a little darker than ours.

His family background is good too.  I am told that his father is an important gun-bearer in the village in Africa from which he comes.

Now that I have brought you up-to-date, I want to tell you that there was no dormitory fire.  I did not have a skull fracture or concussion.  I was not in hospital.  I am not pregnant.  I am not engaged.  I do not have syphilis, and there is no “schvartze” in my life.  However, I did get an F in History, and an F in Science – and I wanted you to see these marks in proper perspective.

 

Your loving daughter,

 

__________________

 

Mace23042014