Blah Day

Good thing about Sunday: in Ontario, the evil atheist baby-killing, kitten-eating NDP-voting Al Qaeda members have gotten Sunday shopping. So I'm going to Future Shop to return that piece of crap wireless USB dongle.

Bad thing about Sunday: it means that the weekend is almost over, and I feel like I haven't even had a chance to relax yet.

I'm traveling to Future Shop in the wealthy and over-vehicled Waterloo section of town today, and I plan to use the public transportation system, Grand River Transit. Shouldn't be too weird, but who knows. I know that the bus labelled 7C goes close to where I'm going. But there are buses labelled 7A, 7B, 7C, 7D, 7E, 7F, and I think even 7G. And I'm not entirely sure why. There are other numbers on buses, so it's not like GRT is afraid to start using other numbers. I think they originally bought bus stop signs for King Street with the number 7 on them, and they don't want to spend the money adding other numbers to the signs.

Speaking of King Street, in KW there are King Street North, King Street South, King Street West, and King Street East. No big deal, you say? Ahh, but they're all the same street! In that order, too.

Anyway, time for me to go buy some bus tickets.

Hmmm.

Well, the trip was a pain today. Had to wait in a long line for bus tickets. Then wait for the bus. Then wait for Future Shop's customer service people to perform that function for a large lineup. Then wait for the return bus at the mall which doesn't have a Second Cup as I previously thought. Then ride the bus back, after sitting on a wet seat and getting my ass wet. Yuck. Plus there were a hundred anti-abortion protesting Christians along King Street, all of them lined up single file and holding signs stating either that Jesus Heals And Saves or that Abortion Kills Children. Mostly the killing one. Those Christians love their killing. :)

I fear for the letters to the editor page in this town.

Overheard

"Sunday in Kitchener is like Sunday on the Moon."

(thanks halfwitted!)

Career Paths

I'm not what's funnier: the title of the job, or the fact that it requires "a post-secondary education in poultry."