Wednesday, April 28, 2004

The Wilson Sentar

This, my friends, is the stupendous chariot which pulls me over hills and across desolate stretches of lawn, mowing down whatever grass dares stand before it. This goddess of speed and precision will even make the most hardened anti-lawn cutting advocate stand up and mutter, "man, I wish I cut lawns all day."









Monday, April 26, 2004

Dumb move of the week (so far): Trying to start a lawn mower that was already started and then getting frustrated when, as I drew the string, the mower made a weird noise and wouldn't start (in my mind.)

Sunday, April 25, 2004

Well, it has been about a week since I've posted. My girlfriend visited and she's more interesting than my blog. Anyhow, there's a lot I can blog on right now so I should get right to it.

First of all, I have tried (vainly I'm sure) to update my links. There's a few more blogs listed there and the website of my girlfriend's young brother, Estimé Nywari. Estimé is a nine-year-old who attends grade four at L'école Monseigneur-de-Laval. He's a wonderful person and very intelligent. I hope he updates often.

Secondly, I bought Jack Johnson's new album On and On and his music is spectucularly good. A sort of reggae-tinged mellow latin-influenced acoustic adventure. I'd like to thank Jason Legg for recommending him to me because I have not stopped playing this album. If you want to see two of his videos you can go to Launch and search for his two videos "Taylor" and "The Horizon had Been Defeated." Look for a special guest appearance by Ben Stiller.

Thirdly, I went to the doctor and I would just like to say HA! to Laurianne. The Doctor said it was EXTREMELY unlikely that it was a fungus. I had just hit the finger wrong and now I have to wait twenty-something years for it to grow correctly. Despite the non-fungal nature of my fingernail problem, he gave me an anti-fungal cream.

Fourthly, there's been a recent movement known as the Rob Joustra Underpants Club. I briefly considered joining but I've decided that I want very little to do with Rob's underwear. I'm sure the feeling is mutual.

Fifthly, I'd like to extend Evghenis Ware a hearty good-bye and God's blessings on his school swap. Of course, the summer is far from over and hopefully we'll see eachother again.

Sixthly, I should apologize in advance because my blogging is going to be sporadic over the summer, I just know it. Between my girlfriend, friends, and work, I'm not sure I'll be able to blog as much as I'd like to. I'll try for once a week.

Seventhly, naw, nevermind. I just wanted to make this whole thing complete by including a seventh point. Well, I'll talk to y'all later. In case I don't see you all, have a great summer!

Saturday, April 17, 2004

French Exam

Just finished a French exam and one of the questions was something like "Qu'est-ce que tu voulais etre quand tu etais petit?" Which means what did you want to be when you were small? In the interest of time and with the constraints of my limited knowledge I only gave one answer. The following is a rough chronology of my vocational dreams:

Age 1: N/A
Age 2: N/A
Age 3: Garbageman
Age 4: Garbageman/Superman
Age 5: Clown
Age 6: My dad
Age 7: Judge/Chef
Age 8: Soldier
Age 9: Archaeologist
Age 10: Archaeologist
Age 11: Archaeologist
Age 12: Archaeologist/Artist
Age 13: Archaeologist
Age 14: Archaeologist
Age 15: Celebrated Author of the Quintessential Canadian Novel
Age 16: Author
Age 17: Humanitarian
Age 18: Philanthropist (i.e. rich)
Age 19: Pastor
Age 20: Teacher
Age 21: Author, Teacher, whatever

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Monday, April 12, 2004

Boerishbwoy Awards Corrections

Due to a recent rash of complaints over the 2004 Annual Boerishbwoy Blog Awards (one complaint, a sigh, and a good-natured taunt, in fact) we're just posting to make a few minor corrections.

Best Greek Cypriot Blog is being withdrawn from Dr. Koyzis and awarded to Ian Dewaard. In its place, we've decided to award Dr. Koyzis with The Byzantine Bow Tie Award for Outstanding Beardedness.

Also, Andrew Groen, is being stripped of his Andrew Groen Award for Outstanding Andrew Groen Entries and instead being awarded The Mealy-Mouthed Complainer Award for the Next Time You Claim this Is Rigged We'll Show You What Rigged Really Is. The Andrew Groen Award for Outstanding Andrew Groen Entries shall now be awarded to Mira Ponomarenko.

Also, Laura Stewart shall be awarded the coveted title of "Enlightened Empress of the Blog-World" and her reign shall last at least a year. Sorry, for not announcing that earlier.

We do hope that everyone is satisfied now.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

umm.
The 2004 Boerishbwoy Blog Awards

Graham Ware recently posted his blog awards, awarding boerishbwoy the coveted title of "most humorous content." Boerishbwoy is a little bit befuddled at this award since this blog is strictly limited to serious journalistic topics, but we're willing to accept it with grace. Now, however, we've been inspired to share our own awards in the "First Annual Boerishbwoy Blogger Awards." So, without further ado and in no particular order (actually, there is a particular order BWA HA HA HA HA! YOU'LL NEVER FIND IT!!) No, seriously, there's no order and if you're not mentioned it's only because we're a prententious bunch of elitists here at Boerishbwoy and you're not part of the club - na-naa na-na-naa. Actually, it's only because they wouldn't be awards if everyone got them. What do you think this is, a communist site? No, sorry, even communists recognize individual achievements. That's right. We're sorry for not mentioning you. We mean, we would have but we didn't have time and it isn't because we don't like you, we really do, it's only because our fingers are cold from typing too long. Anyhow, you know how we said without any further ado, earlier? Well, this time we mean it:

The Dubya Award for Generous Appreciation and Promotion of the 43rd President of the United States of America: Graham Ware

The Mongol Hordes Award for Appreciation of the Cultural Achievements and Pillaging Rampages of the Nomadic Tribes of the Steppes: Rob Joustra

The Gideon Award for Rigorous Adherence to the Principles of Straussian Philosophy: Mr. Gideon Strauss

The de Gaulle Award for Incurable Francophiles in Their Shameless Promotion of the Wonders of the French World: Jake Belder

The Aghast Expression Award for Receiving an Award that Wasn't Some Cheap Dig at the Confederates: Jake Belder

The Andrew Groen Award for Outstanding Andrew Groen Entries: Andrew Groen

The Extended Vacation Award for Longest Pause Between Blog Entries: Tim Amor
Honourable Mention: Dave Vlasblom

The 2004 Grammatical Achievement Award for Dedication to the Rules Governing the English Language: Chris Crookall

The Van Dyke Award for the Promotion and Appreciation of All Things Van Dyke: Jakob Van Dorp
Honourable Mention: Rob Joustra

Best Greek-Cypriot Blog: Dr. Koyzis

The Bewildering Award for Some Sort of Strange Blog Force which Compels Cantankerous Anonymous Individuals to Become Really Upset Over Seemingly Benign Entries and Post Numerous Angry Responses: Louizandre Dauphin

Ugly Fingernail Award: John den Boer

Boerishbwoy Award for Being an Outstanding Blog: Andrew Vis
Honourable Mention: James Brink

Star-Crossed Lovers Award: Jason Legg and Rachel Epps

Slap On the Hand Award for Speaking of Love by Referring to Astrology Rather than Some Sort of Biblical Allusion: Boerishbwoy

Most Art-Centred Blog: Andrea Hensen

The You-Got-Soul Award for Golden Typists: Paperwing

The Golden Typist Award for Having Soul: Alaina Frankruyter

Winnie the Pooh Award for Appreciation of All things A.A. Milne: Richard Greydanus

Comedic Michigander Award for Making John den Boer Laugh Many Many Times: Tim Van Alstyne

The Small Roadside Tent Award for Prospective Bolivian Circus Performers: Mikey Arce

Nice Template Award: Amyann Faul

No I'm Not Engaged Yet Award for Person I Will Tell Immediately When I Am: Naomi Biesheuvel

The C'mon Award for You Got to Post More Often: Brian Dijkema

Best Blog of a Former Resident of Dorm 5 who is Now in England: Jennifer Van Breda

Giv'er Shit Award For Outstanding Satirical Wit: Dan Postma

Best Baltimore Blog from an Orthodox Neocalvinist: Gregory Baus

The I Would Amuse Myself for Hours With those Little Springy Doorstoppers - you know, *doyng*dooooyynnnggg* - When I was Your Age So Why Are You So Smart? Award for Young Bloggers Who Are Really Very Intelligent: Summer and Shimmer

The Pieter Award for Outstanding Harsevoorts: Piet Harsevoort
Honourable Mention: Joel Harsevoort

The Great Paitence Award for Individuals Who Don't Mind Being in the Wrong Alphabetical Order on Our Sidebar: Rachel Breimer
Honourable Mention: Naomi Biesheuvel

Thursday, April 08, 2004

Super Bunny

The killer was my friend, a buddy from across the street, named Andy. Andy was a psychotic kid my mother recalls me attempting to throttle at the tender age of three. No, I’m not exactly the most violent person but I suppose Andy brought out my more primal qualities. This particular homicide occurred at my house when Andy was visiting.
On that fateful day, Andy decided that it would be fun if we played with my family’s pet rabbits. I agreed, not realizing what desolation this bunny entertainment would cause. My brown rabbit wasn’t good enough, no, Andy went for the my sister’s albino which, incidentally, I was not allowed to touch. So, we played with the rabbit, and being boys, the rabbit’s inherent cuteness and our excitement over it’s delightful rodent antics soon wore off. Andy, his mind always amusing itself in the pub of inspiration, suddenly came up with this inebriated idea, “Hey, let’s play super bunny!”
Andy could ride a two-wheeler, had an impressive amount of he-man figures and he was in kindergarten; of course his idea was a good one. So, I agreed.
Of course, Andy hadn’t really thought to wait for my assent and had already grabbed the rabbit by his back legs and begun to spin it about. This particular rabbit was surprisingly aerodynamic and soon curiousity got the better of Andy and he started to wonder, like most criminally-minded five year olds would, if this bunny could fly on it’s own. The first flight was a mild success, with the rabbit spinning clumsily into the air and flying for several seconds only to be influenced by the insistent pull of gravity and plummeting back into Andy’s arms. Andy was pleased with the triumph of his first launch and swung the long white body between his legs and into the air once again. The rabbit went higher this time, performing a few more athletic gymnastics in the air this time before finding refuge in Andy’s crushing embrace once again.
I suppose I should’ve been hit by some moral urge about this time to tell Andy to stop playing “super bunny.” The thing was that I had started to believe in super bunny. Super albino rabbit had had two successful flights and if he was anything like the super man I knew, this bunny could deflect bullets off of his chest and leap over tall buildings and had more to worry about from kryptonite then being throne six feet above the ground by a five year old boy.
So in my naive belief I kept silent and the bunny began his third flight. Launched into the air the white ball of fur completed one, two, three rapid rotations and then started heading down. This time, however, Andy’s hands remained passively at his sides, waiting for the bunny to take its flight under its own locomotion. The rabbit, unaware of Andy’s plan, continued helplessly towards the ground. The rabbit was half-way throught its fourth rotation when it’s head struck the ground. There was a brutal squeek and a sickening crack as the rabbit’s neck broke. The body followed with a thud and the rabbit lay quite still and quite dead, or at least mostly so. I poked the rabbit and it remained inert. I touched it, prodded it but it did not respond. Andy looked at his handiwork in wide-eyed amazement, “Uh, I have to go now . . . bye John.”
I shrugged, smelling death on the creature but not realizing it. I left it where it slept and went inside, an accessory to the barbarous flying death of my sister’s favourite animal.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

Karl Marks

I've polished off my paper on Karl Marx's vision of the future and now, in honour of this momentous occasion, I've decided to post a picture of the man. Incidentally, he's holding up my proposed grade.

Monday, April 05, 2004

Update:

- It has been a while since I've done an update so I'll do one.

- Actually, the real reason is my mind has been sucked dry by parasitic papers.

- After doing a quick search on the internet I've found a fingernail that looks distressingly like my own. Apparently its called Onychomycosis and it's fungal.

- Maybe you don't want to shake my hand afterall.

- My oma is over. We went to "Mozart Madness" on Friday and she really enjoyed it.

- My grandpa turned 80 on Friday.

- I watched "the Rundown" on Saturday and for all those people who insist that the Rock can't act, you're right.

- I liked the movie though.

- I'm a dog according to the Chinese calendar.

- I hate exams, I can sit for eight hours with a book in front of me but I won't really be studying.

- People who aren't fourth years shouldn't sign up in the column reserved for fourth years for appointments to see the registrar. I'd be angry if I hadn't signed up so late.

- Wait, maybe I should be angry. Okay, I'm a little bit angry.

- Four dead mice in twenty-four hours in the den Boer house, how about that? That cat is good for something.

- Talk radio sucks.

- My house has five computers in it - not counting microchips I don't know about.

- My grandpa said the word niggeroe when I was at his house on Sunday. I think he was trying to say negroe. He has a thick accent.

- He said that they like to eat carp. It's hard to be angry at that old man, but I was for a little while.

- Discombobulate, great word. Underused, I'd say.

- If you can be discombulated can you be combobulated? Probably not.

- I have a sister at Redeemer. People are often surprised to learn this, but I do. She's two years older, a year ahead, and twice as smart as me.

- I remember in grade four my teacher pulling me to the side (he had taught both of my older sisters) and saying, "your sisters never rough-housed in the back, why aren't you more like them?"

- I hope my masculinity had something to do with that.

- I did play with barbies once, I pulled off their heads in misogynistic rage and threw them, naked, into the fake fireplace. I feel a little bit bad about it now.

- My girlfriend used to rip the heads off barbies, too. This was after giving them severe haircuts.

- I learned a bit about diabetes last week from Brian Dijkema. Man, it sucks.

- B.B. King has diabetes. Great music.

- Maybe there's a correlation between low blood sugar and the blues.

- Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Thursday, April 01, 2004

Some More Leacock

Today Brian Dijkema shared one of Stephen Leacock's absolutely hilarious stories with me - the one about the fifty-six dollar deposit in the bank, if that means anything to you.

Here is some more Leacock:

Mr. Malthus (just the opening, it's a long poem. You all know Thomas Malthus, right? He's the famous professor of political economy and clergyman who taught that the earth could only support so many people)

"Mother, Mother, here comes Malthus,
Mother, hold me tight!
Look! It's Mr. Malthus, Mother!
Hide me out of sight."
This was the cry of little Jane
In bed she moaning lay,
Delirious with Stomach Pain,
That would not go away.
All because her small Existence
Over-pressed upon Subsistence;
Human Numbers didn't need her;
Human Effort couldn't feed her.
Little Janie didn't know
The Geometric Ratio.
Poor Wee Janie had never done
Course Economics No. 1;
Never reached in Education
Theories of Population, --
Theories which tend to show
Just how far our Food will go,
Mathematically found
Just enough to go around.
This, my little Jane, is why
Pauper Children have to die.
Pauper Children underfed
Die delirious in Bed;
Thus at Malthus's Command
Match Supply with true Demand.
Jane who should have gently died
Started up and wildly cried, --


The Social Plan

I know a very tiresome man
Who keeps on saying "social plan."
At every dinner, every talk
where men foregather, eat or walk,
No matter where -- this Awful Man
Brings on his goddam Social Plan.

The Fall in Wheat, the Rise in Bread,
The social breakers dead ahead,
The economic paradox
That drives the nation on the rocks,
The wheels that false abundance clogs --
And frightens us from raising hogs, --
This dreary field, the Gloomy Man
surveys and hiccoughs, the Social Plan.

Till simpler men begin to find
His croaking aggravates their mind,
And makes them anxious to avoid
All mention of the Unemployed
And leads them even to abhor
The people called the Deserving Poor
For me, my sympathies now pass
To the poor Plutocratic Class.
The crowd that now appeals to me
Is what he calls the Bourgeoisie.

So I have a Social Plan
To take him by the Neck,
and lock him in a luggage van
and tie on it a check
Marked MOSCOW VIA TURKESTAN
Now, how's that for a Social Plan?

Some Leacock quotes:

"If I were founding a university I would begin with a smoking room; next a dormitory; and then a decent reading room and a library. After that, if I still had more money that I couldn't use, I would hire a professor and get some text books."

"A half truth, like half a brick, is always more forcible as an argument than a whole one. It carries better."

"Advertising may be described as the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get money from it."

"I detest life-insurance agents; they always argue that I shall some day die, which is not so."

"Newspapermen learn to call a murderer 'an alleged murderer' and the King of England 'the alleged King of England' to avoid libel suits."

"Many a man in love with a dimple makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl. "

"Lord Ronald said nothing; he flung himself from the room, flung himself upon his horse and rode madly off in all directions." - actually that's from a story he wrote called Nonsense Novels.

Who deh?

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